Waiting For My Real Life To Begin
by Choas Babe
Summary: When Rodney makes a wish after Arcturus, he's whisked away to Sunnydale. With few options, he joins the Scoobies. But how much will fighting demons change him? StargateAtlantis/Buffy cross, Rodney and Xander centric. Might move to SG archives.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Stargate Atlantis. Whoever owns it does, and really, if I owned it, would I be trying to get together this month's rent? Same goes for Buffy. This was just for fun, if there's any profit being made, it's not by me.

Summary: Rodney makes a wish, and vengeance demons have gigs outside of the Milky Way. Living in the past, in Sunnydale, and fighting against demons, how much will Rodney change before he can go home? Will he want to? How will Atlantis cope?

Crossovers: Buffy and Stargate Atlantis with nodding mention to the Sixth Sense. I didn't mean to put in the Sixth Sense cross, but Rodney can now see the dead and was friends with Cole. I'll try not to use much more, but Cole Sears may show up as a new recruit on Atlantis. Or he may show up in Sunnydale. I don't know. I hadn't meant for him to get in the story in the first place. But it makes a great introduction to the things that go grr in the night.

Atlantis Late July 2005

It had been two weeks since Arcturus. Two weeks of frosty silences and conversations falling silent as soon as he came into the room. The only people he still got along with were Telya, Ronon, and Cadman surprisingly enough. The Daedelus was coming in three weeks with more new recruits, who would be told the story and who would mock and not understand. Just like no one else understood. Not even Sheppard understood. Rodney drew in a shaky breath and released it. It was a _mistake_. He'd been trying to do what they'd been asking, demanding he do ever since he got here; the impossible.

He'd been trying to help, trying to drown out his own guilt. This was the chance, the opportunity he'd been waiting for, the chance to make sure that the deaths caused by this forsaken galaxy weren't in vain. He had needed to make sure Collins death hadn't been in vain. Rodney knew doing something, suffering for something, only for it to count for nothing was a horrible feeling. He distantly remembered his childhood friend, the only other kid he knew who could also see the dead. He'd seen what happened to those whose deaths were counted as nothing. He wondered what had happened to Cole. Cole Sears had been the only person he'd confessed his love of ancient Latin to.

"I wish I was somewhere with people who'd appreciate trying to pull off the impossible and major screw ups," he muttered.

"Done!" An exultant voice crowed behind him, startling him into jumping and pressing a button on the device in front of him. Violent swearing in ancient Latin fell out of his mouth as his hands flashed out, trying to disarm the device that had suddenly become a bomb. He felt time slow to a crawl around him as his hands flashed and he didn't realize that he was still speaking in ancient Latin, describing what he was doing and instinctively not directly mentioning any corrections he was getting from the ghost of the Ancient standing over his shoulder. He didn't notice Miko, the only other scientist in the lab, stop what she was doing to watch as his hands blurred, his fingers flew, and his voice utter profanity along with the facts of what he was doing.

He spun around and glared angrily at the woman behind him, not even noticing the Ancient smiling and fading away now that his project was complete, not noticing the awestruck Miko, only glaring at the woman who he now realized was a spirit. She didn't look like she should be a spirit. Her dark brown hair was curly, and her skin was the color of caramel, and her lips were colored with a bright red lipstick.

"It has been over ten years since the last time I saw one of your kind," he spit out in careful, hateful ancient Latin. "I was far from heartbroken when I stopped seeing ghosts and spirits. I have enough problems getting along with people without accidentally speaking to the dead on top of everything."

The woman smiled. "I am no mere spirit, Rodney McKay. I was supposed to be destroyed, but you are the only one of my clients I never granted a wish to before now and thus could not be destroyed completely."

"Wish?" Rodney spat out. "I've made wishes before, Spirito dei desideri, but never have they been granted."

"Yes you have, and some of them have been heartfelt vengeance wishes. But my claim to you came first, and it is the strongest. My name is Halfrek, and I am sorry, but this is going to hurt," and the woman made a gesture in the air.

"What the hell!" was all he got out before he was sucked into a portal.

"And good luck to you, kid," Halfrek stated. "You're going to need it." And she faded away.

Miko's mouth dropped open as she stared at the spot where her boss had been, and where the woman who had taken him had vanished.

--With Rodney, in the portal

Rodney opened his mouth and tried to scream. He felt the air leave his lungs, but he didn't hear anything. He couldn't see and cold seeped into his limbs, froze his blood in his veins, and leeched into his lungs. There was nothing around him; he couldn't even feel the clothes he was wearing. He tried to flail his limbs, tried to feel something, but he didn't know if he even moved them. He tried to draw breath, but there was nothing to breathe in. His mind screamed in impotent fury before he passed out.

--Sunnydale, 1997

Giles had just finished warning the three teenagers about the dangers of fighting the occult, which they had accepted with far too much nonchalance for his comfort when a portal opened in front of him and spat out a man. He was unconscious and looked far too thin than could be strictly healthy.

Buffy, having sensed something happening behind her, spun around in time to see her Watcher staring at a man on the ground. Surprised, she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind.

"He's kinda cute. Can we keep him?"

Xander dropped his head a little and tilted it to the right. "That's new. He looks a little beat up, and like he hasn't slept for forever. And judging from the bruises on his head, he's gonna wake up with one hell of a headache. Hey, Wills, help me."

Xander had gone over to the man on the ground, gently easing his limbs out, and wincing when he got a look at the scratches covering his arms. Willow had moved to stand by Giles and babbling away about something, possibly portals, Giles really couldn't understand her fast paced speech and Buffy was on his other side demanding that she be allowed to keep him if slayage wasn't needed. A low whistle from Xander drew the attention of the other three back to him.

"Those scratches were self –inflicted while he couldn't feel it. I'd guess he has power bars on hand though, that's what his breath smells like."

Giles was faintly disturbed to realize that Xander was correct. How had he known that? Buffy voiced his question out loud. Xander's blasé response and Willow's nodding along with it made him slightly ill as he heard the experience talking.

"Well, the first clue is where the scratches are. All up and down his arms, see," here he pointed to the scratches. "And the second clue is how they're angled. See, you scratch yourself and the scratches are going to pull towards the side the hand that's doing the scratching from. And the third clue is the blood under his fingernails."

Giles pulled his glasses off and wiped them. "Well, I guess we can't really leave him there. I'll take him home with me and see what's going on when he wakes up."

--Atlantis Late July 2005

Laura Cadman collapsed to the floor, clutching her head. Her team crowed around her, while someone called for Carson. She didn't care, as she stretched her mind out, looking for the mind that had touched hers; had been in constant low-level contact with hers, for almost three weeks. It was hard to be alone in her head now. She looked up as Carson laid a hand on her shoulder in concern.

"Rodney's gone," was all she managed to get out before the world went black.

--Sunnydale, 1997

Rodney groaned and raised his hand to his head. Something was wrong with where he was. He couldn't tell what it was, but something was out of place. It wasn't until he stretched his mind to ask Cadman what was going on that he realized what it was. He sat up and his eyes snapped open as he tried to find Cadman and Atlantis.

He looked around the room he was in, trying to find clues as to where he was. What he saw confused him. He was in what looked like a spare room on Earth. But that was impossible. Earth was light years away in another galaxy. But a glance out the window didn't help. It was dark, but he could just make out what would be a normal suburban street. But that fact was shoved to the back of his mind when he saw his reflection.

His face was younger, and the lines that fear and stress and fighting had placed on his face were gone. His cheeks were thinner, he looked twenty nine again. He could feel the difference in his body now that he was aware there was difference. He felt so _young_, and how sad was that that he felt that the body he was in was too young, too slow? A thought struck him. If he was back in his twenty nine year old body, and in a place he didn't recognize, was he still in the year 2005?

_Rodney! Rodney, are you okay? Where are you? Rodney!_ He winced. He'd found Cadman. Rodney tried to get a word in edge wise as Cadman babbled about how he disappeared, where he was, and how worried she'd been in his mind. And then he paused, something was just at the edge of Cadman. Reaching out slowly, tentatively, he touched the other presence.

And Atlantis flooded through his mind, and stunned Cadman to silence as she felt Atlantis for the first time in her own body. The alien joy that Atlantis felt was overwhelming. He felt the city try and make further contact, try and find him, and he felt her frustration when she couldn't. He tried to calm her down but the effort of straining so far and connecting with Atlantis through the body of someone without the gene combined with the latest mental strain dragged him under the edge of consciousness.

Cadman blinked as she found herself once more in control of Rodney's body. "Damn it to hell, Rodney, do not do this to me," she whispered.

"Excuse me?" a startled voice asked from the doorway. She turned her (her? His? Their?) head to the door. A middle-aged man stood there, in reasonable shape and very uneasy her military mind noted. His uneasiness, coming so soon upon the heels of Rodney's vanishing and her relief at finding him stirred some suspicion that he was the reason Rodney wasn't on Atlantis anymore. Irrational, but she wasn't in a rational mood. She wasn't thinking correctly, the strain caused by reaching across light years and the stress brought on by fear obscuring her thinking, and making her excessively paranoid. She wanted to be angry and blame someone, but she couldn't blame Rodney or anyone else, so the man before was as good a target as she was getting.

"I didn't think you'd be up yet," he stated nervously. Laura narrowed her (her? His? Their?) eyes at him. British accent, nervous, and with knowledge of how long Rodney should have been out, what did that tell her?

Atlantis screamed in rage in the back of her head as she concluded that the man before her, before Rodney, either had something to do with Rodney's disappearance or had knowledge that it was coming. The possibility that he'd seen similar situations, or that he'd simply found Rodney and that the condition he'd been in was similar enough to something he'd seen before never crossed her mind. Her own desperation at the disappearance of the surprisingly warm, soft, and _fuzzy_ (of all things she'd ever thought McKay to be, fuzzy never even made joking mention to the list) presence that was Rodney combined with Atlantis's fury over the loss of one her favorite people in the expedition.

Rodney had been stolen from them. And when they found out where he was, they'd strike and take back their scientist.

--

Giles felt very nervous as he stood under the scrutinizing stare of the man before him. Irrationally, he felt as if he'd been judged and condemned. There was something very dangerous about the way his eyes were narrowed, and the set of his body language screamed anger and violence about to be unleashed. He had no way of knowing that he was facing an angry woman and city combined instead of a man. In an effort to calm him down, he asked precisely the wrong question.

"Do you remember how you got here?"

--

"Do you remember how you got here?" Something within Laura Cadman's psyche snapped. Later, when asked about it, she would blush bright red and the lights in the room would follow. Cadman, used to Rodney's thirty nine year old body and its reactions, lunged for the man in the doorway. Only, at twenty nine, Rodney had not let the conditioning from being the star player on his high school hockey team go. In fact, he'd only started to let it go when he'd turned thirty two and a disgruntled scientist he'd been working with had bitingly informed him that he should stop trying to maintain the glory days when people liked him. The man probably hadn't intended for that to happen, but the fact that things had not gone well at his high school reunion that he'd been dragooned into attending had only exasperated the damage done by an angry comment.

Laura's rage combined with the strength of the body she was in had her pinning the man to the far wall with her (Rodney's?) forearm across his throat.

"Where are we?" she ground out. She didn't bother to ask why he stole Rodney. He was, as he constantly stated, the smartest man in two galaxies. With the recent problems he was having with the rest of the exhibition, now must have seemed like the perfect time to strike. He most likely had no way of knowing the affection that Atlantis felt for Rodney. And she didn't doubt that Sheppard would be furious over what happened.

"You're… in my… home," British managed to get out.

"And where is that?" Her patience was gone. "Tell me!"

"Sunnydale, California."

"Liar! Who do you serve? The Wraith? The Ori, the Goa'uld, _who_?" She demanded.

"Don't know… who those demons are. Not lying," he choked out.

She briefly noted the use of the word demons before moving on to more pressing concerns. Namely, how Rodney had gone from Atlantis to Earth in a manner of seconds. And she still wasn't letting go of her pet theory that he'd stolen Rodney. But maybe he'd needed him. He still should have asked to borrow him.

She loosened her hold on him. Just a little. And then she noticed how different the body felt. This wasn't Rodney's usual body. But she could feel the trembling start, and knew that Rodney hasn't eaten for at least eight hours. Rodney didn't skip breakfast if he could help it, because he knew he was probably going to skip lunch and, if no one came and got him, dinner as well. And that was dangerous. If he didn't eat, he collapsed. And he hadn't gotten breakfast at the commissary this morning, she'd checked.

She felt the stirrings of her own body, light years away, and knew that she wouldn't be around much longer. She could have fought the pull of her own body, fought to stay with Rodney, but she was exhausted, mentally and physically. If she didn't return to her own body soon, both bodies would probably go into shock. Laura well remembered the feeling of Rodney's body shutting down as it tried to support two minds.

"Shit." She stated calmly. "Okay, British, listen and listen well. My name is Laura Cadman. The man who should be in control of this body is named Rodney McKay. He is something of a large hypochondriac, but he really is a hypoglycemic. And deathly allergic to citrus. And if I come back, and his body is in anyway not in good condition, or drugged, or tied down, I will hunt you down to the edges of the universe and do my damn best to pull your entrails out your ear after castrating you with a dull, hot knife. And then I will give you to his team."

British swallowed. He obviously had no difficulty believing her. Probably didn't believe her about not being the proper owner of the body though. Oh well, he'd learn.

"Ah, if you're not the proper owner of that body, than how do you possess him, and where is he?" There was an edge under that question that she didn't care for at all.

"It's not possession. It's me being in control while he's out of it. And it's a left over from something that happened a while ago."

No way in hell was she letting him know how recent this development was. He'd stolen Rodney, but now he knew they were not going to let him get away with it. She managed to get back into the room Rodney had woken up in and eat a power bar. She was grateful that Rodney had seen no reason to curb his eating style just because he had a roommate, she could now eat just as fast he could. Or at least she could with something like a power bar.

She fixed British with one last harsh glare. "If he is damaged in anyway, I will find a way to kill you."

And then, thousands of light years away, she woke up.

­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­­--Atlantis 2005

Laura lay on a bed in the infirmary, listening to the hum of Atlantis. She could feel the city now, just at the edge of her mind. It wasn't like when she'd used the Ancient gene in Rodney's body; no she still didn't have it. But she could tell she was missing something.

Her thoughts chased themselves around her head, yammering for attention. How had Rodney gotten to Earth, and why had his captor given him a stronger, fitter body? Oh, Rodney was no slouch, not with being on the flagship team, but the body had felt younger, and as if the reflexes drilled into it weren't there anymore.

"Why?" slipped out past her lips, more breathed then said. Things weren't adding up. Sunnydale sounded familiar, but why? Atlantis was trying to tell her something, but she couldn't get into Laura's mind. She wasn't in contact with Rodney anymore. But she could feel her body trying to support Rodney and prevent a hypoglycemic reaction.

It was the strangest thing, but whenever Rodney was injured, or skipping too many meals, her body seemed to try and support his. Rodney had been so frustrated by it, and even more so because he could feel her body giving him what he needed when he was in desperate straits. He'd even felt some effect from her trying to pass the benefit of sleep onto to. He hypothesized that it was because she'd been living in his body.

He'd finally walked up to her while she was walking patrol around the city one night. He'd said one word, a deeply smug look on his face as he did so.

"_**Pack."**_

"_**What?" She stared at the physicist in bemusement.**_

"_**That's why your body is trying to support mine. Pack. Somehow, your body, and probably my body, has decided that we are pack. And if the pack dies, something of you dies. And humans do not want to die. It's fascinating really; I've been finding myself thinking more in terms of pack and not pack for awhile now. Ever since…" **_

_**His voice had trailed off at the end. He had to be referring to Project Arcturus. **_

"_**Why now? And why are you thinking in terms of packs do you think?"**_

_**He'd shrugged and looked slightly ashamed of himself.**_

"_**Lack of sleep. I; haven't been sleeping well since, well, you know. And I know that Sheppard has an almost psychic knowledge of when someone is in the gym or the firing range. I…Don't want to run into him. Or the Marines. I've been spending most of my nights in the lab. And then I felt you in the corridor and you were confused and I found myself thinking that I needed to go comfort my litter sister."**_

"_**Litter sister?" She'd quirked an eyebrow at him. She wanted to ask about the sleep he hadn't been getting, but now didn't seem the time.**_

"_**In pack terms, well, wolf terms really, I think it's something distinctly wolfish don't you?" And he'd babbled at her and she'd listened. He'd gone with her for the rest of her patrol, just jabbering away at her about the scientists and the discoveries they'd been making in the lab.**_

_**And a part of her was sad. He'd normally find a way to snark the whole lot of it at Sheppard, but Sheppard wasn't listening. And Rodney **_**needed**_** to talk about his discoveries, and to covertly boast about his scientists. And so when her patrol was over, she'd let him into her room, and had snuggled down next to him and listened to him slowly babble until he fell asleep.**_

_**And it was the best sleep she'd had since she'd left Rodney's head.**_

That hadn't been the end of things, not by a long shot. After that patrol, Rodney would somehow find his way to her when she was patrolling at night and he spent nearly every night curled beside her. Some of his clothes were taking up semi-permanent residence in her room, and if her mouth tightened when his more personal items did as well, some with signs of repair, well there was no one to see but Rodney and he never said anything.

Of course, she'd sat down and explained to Carson what was going on. She didn't want him to think she was going to hurt him like that. And Carson hadn't been pleased, not until he'd seen how they interacted, more like siblings than anything else, and had understood. And he hadn't been made any happier when he'd noticed the broken items than she. Certain people around the base had been in for very thorough physicals when they came in next. Carson may not have been happy with Rodney, but he was still his friend. Laura secretly believed that Carson was gradually starting to think more in terms of packs.

And speaking of Carson, he was standing by her bed, a worried look on his face. He'd come soon after she'd woken up, and she was startled to realize that she could feel him. He was the comforting warmth of a slept in bed on a cold winter day when you realized that you didn't have to go out today, that you could just sink back into the covers and go to sleep. And by the way he's looking at her he's starting to feel her too.

"Laura, you're light," was all he whispered, slightly awed. And she understood.

"Wait until you get around McKay," she whispered. "He's _fuzzy_. He's alive, Carson, _he's alive_. Atlantis helped me find him. He's just really far away right now."

"But I don't think I'll feel okay until I can see him, Laura. I want to trust you, but part of me is telling me that he should be here."

She smiled. He was having problems adapting to the pack thoughts. That was okay, she'd had problems too, right up until she'd realized that those thoughts meant that she wasn't alone and that she had family. Carson would get through this. He was already half way there, after all, didn't he sometimes think in terms of clan, not clan? She snagged his arm and pulled him down and kissed him.

"You'll get used to it. And you can help me take it out of the hide of the one who took Rodney away," she said and kissed him again before scooting over and letting him crawl up beside her. It wasn't as good as having all of her pack together and safe on Atlantis, but having her prospective mate did make it a little easier to bear.

Similar thoughts carried her off to sleep.

--

John Sheppard pounded across the ground. He knew Elizabeth would land on him like a brick shithouse when he got back, for leaving his radio behind, for running out this far. But he needed to get away damn it, and if Teyla wasn't hinting that she thought that he should forgive Rodney, Ronon was bluntly stating that he needed to either assign Rodney to another team, ground him for good, or get it out of his system.

What Ronon didn't, couldn't, know was that he had tried to reassign Rodney; tried to give him over to Lorne, who would've taken care of him because it was his job. But just after he'd drawn up the papers to make the transfer, he'd gotten fed up with paperwork and had snuck over to the gym to try and work out on the punching bag. And he'd seen Lorne, and known that _Lorne_ would be the one watching Rodney's six, known that if he sent the papers to Elizabeth Lorne would be the one acting like Rodney's watch dog. It had been all he could do to stop himself going for Lorne's throat. The only people who would be Rodney's guard or watch dogs were his team.

He'd gone back to his office and ripped the papers to shreds. He'd then drawn up the papers to ground Rodney. And then he'd paused and thought about Rodney's reaction. His first thought was that Rodney would protest, would rant and rave, and provide John with ample force to fight against. And then he saw Rodney's face as he was handed proof that John would never trust him again. He could picture his face falling, his whole body slumping and a light going out. And he couldn't do it. Because his mind drew himself in further, and he could see Rodney dying just a little every time a Gate team went out. He could see Rodney withdrawing into himself every time John called another scientist out for a mission.

And what frightened him was the thought that came to mind as the thought that either another team would take him through the Gate and get him killed, was the thought that if a team didn't, Rodney would resign. Would leave Atlantis behind forever and that John would never see his friend again. And he couldn't do it. When he'd mentioned it to Heightmeyer during a session he'd _voluntarily_ set up, she'd looked at him with grave eyes. What had come out of her mouth had frozen him to the core.

"_**I can see Rodney," and John had really wanted to go after her for calling him by his first name alone. "Dying like you've described. And if another team doesn't take him out, and they probably wouldn't because Rodney was your scientist and he failed you, don't argue, Colonel, that's how the rest of the base will see it. So because he'd already failed you, and the rest of the base constantly reminding him of it, what makes you think he'd try his luck on Earth?"**_

_**He'd stared uncomprehending at her. So he'd stick around? That didn't sound like Rodney at all. She'd seen the look of confusion on his face and sighed angrily.**_

"_**Imagine walking in to his room one day, needing his help, and finding him with a slit wrist and no pulse and lying in a puddle of blood. Imagine walking into his room finally ready to reconcile and seeing him hanging from the ceiling. Imagine storming into his room, angry that he hasn't been responding to his radio and people are worried and finding him asleep on his bed. Only he's frightfully still, and his skin is icy to the touch and you can't wake him up."**_

_**John had stared at her with mounting horror as each scenario flashed through his mind with perfect clarity. But Rodney wouldn't do that! He'd said as much, only to have her look at him steadily.**_

"_**Coronel, I have been in every single scenario I have just described. My uncle used to be a chemist. An explosion in his lab hurt one of his subordinates. No one hired him after that. He was the prickliest person you'd ever meet. He was much like McKay in fact. I was the one who found him in a puddle of his blood."**_

_**She'd stopped herself, and pointed to the door. **_

"_**I think we're done here. If I say anymore, it will be something that I'll regret."**_

That was why he was running. Trying to escape the images of Rodney's dead body, dead by his own hand, and driven there by John. He didn't trust himself to not go after the Marines he'd find in the gym, considering what he'd almost done to Lorne. He'd carefully considered all the teams before picking Lorne's. If he'd almost went after Lorne for thinking he'd be a good guard dog for McKay, what would he do to people he'd thought would be bad guard dogs? And the firing range was out; he didn't trust himself with a gun at the moment. And he didn't think that that would be enough physical work to get it out of his head.

He came to a halt in the corridor, panting and sweat soaked. Was Rodney's mistake about Arcturus any different from him waking up the Wraith? Rodney's mistake had only cost one life, while his was costing the lives of millions. And when it came down to it, what was making him mad was the thought that Rodney had told him to trust him and stand with him against Elizabeth. It felt like he'd been betrayed. But what about all the times he'd told Rodney to trust him? Had gotten into messes because Rodney had come with him even though he objected? What about Chaya?

John felt like his world stopped as he thought about Chaya. What was different from that situation? Rodney had clearly told him he didn't trust Chaya and that she was bad news. And John had blown him off. Had ignored everything Rodney told him that directly contradicted his view of Chaya. He'd been so confident that he was right, and that Rodney had only been jealous because John was getting the attention that he hadn't stopped to think that maybe there was a reason Rodney was uneasy. Hell, Rodney wouldn't have admitted to having a problem if he'd been jealous, he'd just ineptly try to flirt with someone.

He felt sick as he realized that Rodney never said anything when a woman started flirting with him anymore. Sure he made his usual Kirk comments, but he never did more than that. Not even when Ronon later told him that McKay had said to be ready to run or perform rescue. And was always right. Ronon had told him that every time he went off with a woman off world, he and Teyla always glanced at McKay.

"I am such a hypocrite," he whispered before turning around and running back to Atlantis. It was time he patched things up with his best friend. If things could be patched up.

--

"There you are, Colonel! We were beginning to think you had disappeared too." A new recruit spotted him as he headed for his room to shower.

He paused.

"What do you mean, 'too?'?" He had a bad feeling.

"That arrogant guy, the one who blew up the solar system, McKay, he disappeared out of his lab. Dr. Miko says she was there. She's claiming he muttered something under his breath, and someone shouted 'done' and a portal sucked him in. I personally don't see why everyone's in such a frenzy, it's not like he did anything major right?"

Sheppard had the man against the wall by his collar, feet dangling, before he'd even realized he was moving.

"_Doctor_ Rodney McKay worked on his own projects and corrects the work of the entire science department. He's done more for this expedition then most people realize needs to be done. He's the only reason there was an Atlantis for you to be recruited to."

He dropped the stunned recruit to the floor.

"He spent over eighty hours awake when the Wraith attacked us, and he built a nuclear bomb for us. You're lucky you said that to me and not Ronon."

He stormed away to find Elizabeth to figure out what was being done to get Rodney back. He couldn't let the last thing Rodney had to remember him by was him being an ass. He couldn't let the last thing he'd really said to his friend was that he didn't trust him.

--

Cadman woke up feeling much better about the real sleep she'd gotten. And it felt nice to wake up with Carson curled around her, almost clinging to her. She let a pleased sigh and started to snuggle closer to her prospective mate, sending her feelings of contentment towards Carson and to Rodney. Only Rodney wasn't there. She could still sense him, barely, but he was so distant. So very far away. No wonder Carson couldn't sense him, she only could because she'd been in his head before and Atlantis had boosted her to him. She frowned contemplatively. Someone or thing else had also helped her get into contact with Rodney. She didn't have the necessary range. She could only feel him because she'd somehow been catapulted into his mind.

The name Sunnydale finally rang a bell and it caused her to sit bolt upright.

"Holy shit!" she shouted.

"What?" Carson, Weir, Teyla, and Sheppard demanded.

Laura looked at them. Sheppard was sweaty, dirty, and didn't have his radio. Weir and Teyla looked distressed and Ronon looked like he wanted to hit something. And Carson looked like he wanted to go back to sleep.

"2002, Sunnydale sank. That's _three years ago_. And if he's there…" her voice trailed off before she swallowed. "Rodney's not in our time anymore. He's not even in the Pegasus Galaxy. He's stuck in Sunnydale, California sometime before 2002."

--Sunnydale 1997

Giles rubbed his throat. Surprisingly vicious, so at least the possessor of the man's body cared, and enough to inform him of possible health problems both real and imagined the man might suffer from. And the spirit was surprisingly hostile to a perceived threat. What would the _female_ spirit want the man for though? He didn't feel like a magic user, he was a man, and Giles was fairly certain he wasn't a demon.

So why had he been the target of a possession? Maybe it had been an accident. Maybe the spirit had been trapped in a hell dimension. That would account for her fierce protectiveness and ah, inventive threat. A groan from his guest pulled him from his thoughts and sent him hurrying into the room. The man, Rodney she'd said his name was, was sitting in bed with his head resting in his hand.

"It feels like my head was in a vice," he muttered sullenly. "Why do I always wake up with a headache?"

Giles cleared his throat and watched as the man jerked himself around and into a corner. The move was vaguely familiar but he couldn't figure out why. He mentally filed it away to think about later. He tried to make himself look as unthreatening as possible, not really wanting to be reacquainted with his wall.

"She'll come you do know that right?" The man, Rodney, stated, in confident tones. "She'll do whatever it takes."

"If you're talking about your additional, um," Giles paused, unsure of how to put it without sounding accusatory.

"Just call her my roommate," the other man said sardonically. "If you have to talk about her. Why am I here, anyway? I'm not worth much to anyone but her these days."

"What? Never mind," Giles stated. "How long have you two been, uh, roommates, as it were?"

The man tensed and glared. "That is none of your damn business. She's been my roommate for long enough that she'll rip you apart when she gets here."

"She already tried," Giles stated dryly. "Then something happened and she needed to leave. Do you know why you were spit out of a portal in front of my charges and I?" It was technically true. Buffy was his charge without question and he supposed that extended to any person taking part in the fight on the Hellmouth.

A glare was his only answer, though he did relax from his position before wincing and cradling his head in his hands. Giles moved slowly forward, ibuprofen in his hand. Xander hadn't been wrong, the man looked like he was fit to claw open his skull.

"Ow, ow, sleepless headache, pain, my head feels like it's in a vice," Rodney muttered. "Sleep is supposed to get rid of the headache, not make it worse." Giles couldn't decide what he felt, amusement at the fact that a grown man was whining, or upset that he was surprised when Giles just wordlessly handed him the bottle of ibuprofen and a glass of water. No one should be surprised when simple kindness was offered or pain relief was given without a word.

"What is a sleepless headache then? Maybe I can help," he offered.

"A sleepless headache happens when one goes for a prolonged amount of time without sleep. I'm not sure if anyone else suffers them, but I do. And while pushing it away works, a little, it always comes back with reinforcements. It's a cruel thing, sleeping usually relieves it…" Rodney trailed off as the pain killers kicked in and his body started to relax. "Sleeping is the realm where nightmares come to life. Where our mistakes haunt us and our failures stay and taunt us. Within every dream lies a million dark shadows waiting to swallow you and your screams are unheard."

Giles stared at the other man. That had been rather dark.

"I get depressing and slightly poetic when I'm sleep deprived," he snapped. "And people wonder why I snap at their stupidity, when I haven't slept for four days because I'm busy correcting their mistakes!"

Giles winced in sympathy. He'd hated pulling all-nighters himself, and unlike one of his college roommates, he didn't get headaches. But that roommate had been hell to live with during exam season. He spared a thought to wonder about Mac's fate, before dismissing it. While Mac O'Neill had been a good friend, the two of them had ended up not keeping in contact. Ethan hadn't liked it, and Giles was ashamed to admit that Ethan's word had held a lot of sway at the time, which might have been why Mac and Ethan had got along as well as a pair of Alpha wolves, which was to say, with much bloody fighting.

"Do you remember how you got here?" Giles asked carefully, prepared to move if he had the same reaction as his roommate.

"A spirito dei desideri responded to something stupid that I'd said. What year is this and where are we anyway?" Giles could understand the need for the question, hell dimensions were notorious for having a different chronological movement, and he winced when he mentally translated spirito dei desideri to Spirit of Desire. Judging by how beaten up he was it was probably a vengeance demon that heard him.

"It's 1997. And you're in Sunnydale, California." Rodney's head snapped up before he grimaced and cradled his head again.

"Eight years. I'm eight _fucking_ years out of place. Why did she place me here?" a thought seemed to occur to the man because he looked up at Giles, his eyes slightly pleading. "Please tell me my luck isn't holding true and there are lots of spirits in this town. _Please_ tell me there aren't that many unusual deaths in this town."

"Ah, I'm afraid I can't do that. I'm sorry, but you are on top of an active Hellmouth."

"Shit! Fucking damnit! Why can't I catch a break just _once?_ Is it too much to ask for that I don't go around seeing the dead everywhere?"

Giles winced. An untrained shaman on the Hellmouth. And as the only Watcher in the area it fell to him to help him get a handle on his gifts before he went insane. Perhaps that was why he was being watched over so carefully by a spirit; there were beings and demons who had declared shamans to be under their protection and were absolutely rabid in the defense of them. And possessing him would keep him safe. All he had to do was keep him away from anything like Primal Spirits during the training; one of those would jump into him without a second thought.

"How long have you been seeing the dead?" Rodney glared at Giles.

"Why do you want to know? For all I know, you could want to dissect me or stick me in an asylum. I assure you, I am not insane. I just see dead people."

Giles winced. Rodney had obviously run afoul of the government at one point or another.

"I believe you, I really do," he said at the incredulous look he was getting. "I knew someone else, she heard the dead, and she was very open to possession, but it was mostly hearing them. And I know about others, they've been recorded in the Watcher's Dairies."

"Who's Dairies?" Rodney asked suspiciously.

"The Watchers' Dairies. You see, the world is older then you know and contrary to popular believe it did not start out as a paradise…"

--Atlantis 1997

She twitched, her circuits barely kept awake by the meager energy flowing through her. Something similar to her was screaming in rage far away. She felt the rage of another reaching across time, a child who saw the past. It had been many years since she had one of Urd's children within her. She could hardly wait.

--Atlantis 2005

Atlantis seethed with rage at the disappearance of her scientist. Call her selfish, but she loved Rodney McKay. Even before he'd had a piece of her in him, he'd talked to her, had cajoled her, and loved her. He listened to her, and had vehemently protected her. It had been his intellect that had attracted her attention at first, that and the fact that the first night he had entered her walls, he had come to the Gate room and spoke to her, had explained to her what the humans were doing within her walls. He had approached her, spoken to her in a language similar to her first people as if he had known she could hear and understand him.

Atlantis reached out and touched Laura Cadman's mind gently. At least she still had Cadman, who was slowly becoming more and more aware of Atlantis and that charming Carson was beginning to realize what Rodney had known. Perhaps her Rodney would bring more family back with him when he came back to her. And he would. He had told her that he would always try to come back to her; he had promised that he would never voluntarily leave her to the dark again.

Laura Cadman wandered around Atlantis, feeling slightly lost. Rodney was gone, and there was nothing she could do to get him back. The labs felt wrong, the more seasoned scientists were nervous and kept double checking their results. She had even watched some of the newer scientists get reamed out for stupid reasons; things that she knew had been done by the other scientists. By unspoken agreement nobody touched Rodney's things or projects. The scientists seemed to relax slightly when she was around, a small piece of their head scientist. She had coolly watched from the shadows as Radek was flung into Rodney's job, as he learned just how much the others depended on his boss.

It had only been two days since Rodney disappeared, and she was falling apart. Part of her kept expecting to see Rodney every time she turned a corner, every time she passed the labs, and part of her mourned when he didn't show up on her nights of patrol. He was gone and she felt like something was missing. Carson seemed to feel it too, and he was getting more and more irritable, but Laura put that down to the rage she could feel from Atlantis.

She stopped outside the open gym door and watched as Sheppard threw himself into the fight with Teyla, sticks flashing and listened as to his grunts when Teyla managed to get through his defenses. He had taken Rodney's disappearance hard and never gave up searching. Every new world he looked for anything that might be a clue to bringing him home. Only Laura realized the truth, she didn't know how she knew, but Rodney was on Earth and he would be coming home to them soon. Elizabeth had dialed Earth, had used the horrendous expenditure of power that would have driven Rodney insane, and told them that somehow Rodney had vanished. General O'Neill had been visiting, had heard that Rodney had disappeared. He had pried the story of Arcturus out of them, and then in a quiet and condemning voice asked them why they shunned Rodney for doing something that others had done, and in a populated system no less. In that quiet, disappointed voice he had promised they would find Rodney and see if he still wanted to come back.

The veterans of Pegasus were getting edgy, more paranoid. She watched as 'gate teams with scientists slowly closed ranks around their geeks, had watched teams like Evan Lorne's who didn't have an official geek but seemed to be synonymous with certain scientists close ranks around them as well. Laura watched as Lorne shoved off the wall and walked past her and knew he was going to go relieve his team member who was standing guard over David Parrish. The veterans knew how important their geeks were, and when someone just vanished one away they got nervous. And certain teams that had decided to follow the original SG-1's example of being protective to the point of feral over their geeks were even arguing over who spent the night where. She suppressed a smile that wanted to break out as she passed the rest of Lorne's team having a whispered argument about just that issue and AG-12 was having the same argument in one of the side labs, only at the top of their lungs.

"I don't care if you don't feel comfortable leaving me alone! I will not share my room with the four of you! There's barely enough room for me!" She heard the scientist shout at the top of her lungs.

One of the Marines looked confused. "You have a problem with _space_? Not the fact that we're guys?"

She watched the scientist throw her hands in the air and huff. "Please! I've slept in those tents the government deludes itself into believing are big enough for two grown men with all of you at one point or another and I have six brothers who have no concept of body modesty. If I can grow up going on camping trips and having to share streams to bathe in with my siblings, I think I can manage it here!"

Laura shook her head in amusement and moved on. She knew what she was doing; she was looking for her own scientist, lost though he was. And while she was looking, she'd make sure that she took care of her doctor. Her mate to be.

--Sunnydale 1997

Rodney lay in the bed quietly, thinking about what he'd heard. What he'd learned about the world was simply mind blowing. He knew it was true, something bone deep in him knew it was true. Some part of him that always knew when there was trouble, always knew when something was going to happen was whispering to him that it was true. But it was hard to wrap his mind around it. He'd let no sign of his inner struggle show, he'd had lots of practice so he knew he was good, his host had left him believing that he'd already known that the supernatural existed. And he felt a shudder go through him as he was told about the Gald hell-snakes and how they were driven through the Chappa'ai. Demons were real, and the Goa'uld had been mistaken for them.

He closed his eyes with a sigh. Rodney couldn't figure out how he'd slept before Cadman had entered his mind. There was nothing there, no matter how he stretched. He'd been like this before, back when he'd gotten a piece of Atlantis in him and he'd been trying to figure out how to sleep away from Atlantis. He'd figure out how to do this. He tried to ignore the cries of the damned that are just out of hearing range. He pictured Atlantis in his mind, Atlantis as he had first seen her. He had seen her spirit, bright and illuminating and just tired of being used and abandoned. He didn't need the lights to see clearly on Atlantis, she lit the way for him. And he needed to get back to her, because he had promised her he wouldn't leave her on her own, not voluntarily. He'd added that, not knowing why, but letting her know that he could die, and he was grateful that Laura had been in his head and knew Atlantis was a person and that she wouldn't be alone.

He finally drifted off to sleep, the image of Atlantis held tight, like a life line. If he let go, he knew everything would come crashing down, being stuck eight years in the past with no way home and being unable to contact anything to do with his old life. He couldn't even talk to the SGC, they wouldn't believe him yet. He was on his own, just like he'd always been. Just like he always would be.

Xander tossed around in his bed, whimpering. Sweat dripped from his body as he seemed to be trying to find something, or trying to fend off something and block out sounds. His nightmares were accompanied by the screaming of damned souls, tied to the earth as monsters stole their lives and killed those they loved. He twisted and turned; his spine and limbs stretching out in ways that shouldn't have been possible, sometimes a harsh parody of lovemaking, sometimes his limbs and joints cracked and snapped before a dull blackness surrounded them and healed them. He was shifting and changing and there was no one there to note that he wasn't just normal. It was strange, but he had spent every moment of his existence on the Hellmouth. He was conceived in the library at the high school; Jessica Harris had gone into premature labor and ended up having him in the library. His survival was a miracle; he shouldn't have been able to; born to a boozing mother a month and a half early. But the Hellmouth took care of the children conceived and born and raised within its influence. But it had a soft spot for young Alexander, it thought of itself as his true parent. Xander had spent many hours hiding in the library as a child, called there by the Hellmouth and soothed by it. And the Hellmouth insured he was safe, that he healed quickly, and that he had a haven.

So the Hellmouth would guard its son, would shield him from disaster and harm. But if protecting him meant that he had to hurt just a little, just so he'd learn to be a little more wary, make him be just a little faster the next time, make him be able to get away by twisting just right, it would do so. Because demons are worse than bears when it came to protecting their young but they toughen them up so that they can survive. It briefly mourned the loss of Jesse, and slowly weakened the tie between sire and fledge enough that Angelus would be able to stake Darla, but it knew that something in Xander had hardened. He had already given the world his litter brother, had ripped out his heart and set it on fire for the world. And he will always guard the Hellmouth because that means protecting the world and he will not let his sacrifice have been made in vain. And so it nudged the brightness that would mark him as The One Who Sees, that would make him so attractive to demons, letting him twist and experience the pains of victims and healing the wounds so that he was stronger. Hellmouths, openings for dimensions, converging barriers weakening there, exist and see through the fog of ages. Time had opened for Rodney McKay to hurtle through and let the Hellmouth see clearly what would happen to its son.

And so its energy swirled around Xander, nuzzled him, and sang him lullabies the like of which it hadn't done since he was a babe laying in a box shoved into a corner where his parents didn't have to see his too old eyes, eyes that saw and knew, watching them with a solemn acceptance. He always watched with his eyes that saw everything.

Xander's body suddenly arched off the bed, his spine almost snapping from how sharply he had moved before collapsing onto the bed, sweat mingled with blood soaking the sheets. He wasn't quite the One Who Sees yet, but he was getting there a little faster than the Powers had planned. And the Hellmouth subsides, its task for the night done. But it stills guards the sleep of the one it calls its son.


	2. First Step

Chapter Two

"I don't see why I have to come. I don't have a job here," Rodney grumbled. It was six in the morning and since he didn't have a lab to work in he didn't see why he had to be awake. And without decent coffee. The tea Giles had given him didn't have enough caffeine to touch his system.

"Because as sympathetic as I am with your plight, I refuse to deal with American teenagers by myself and I want some intelligent conversation. Without talking to myself that is," Giles shot back. He'd put it off for about a week, but Xander had told him he'd skip school and go see Giles' guest by himself if he didn't introduce them soon. At the risk of having Xander left alone in his house with someone who didn't have any idea about his mischievous nature, Giles had dragged Rodney with him to school.

With a grimace, Rodney stumbled after his host. He had found something that his mind could curl up with at night, but that didn't make sleeping any easier. It had the same type of feel as Atlantis, as if whatever it was wasn't contained within a human body, but it was older and darker. But it held his mind gently and soothed his nightmares, but let him have them. There were times that the screams he recognized as those belonging to souls who were damned to a hell of their own making shredded his dreams to pieces. But the worst was the nightmares that ripped and rolled through him that he knew weren't his. The most recurring was holding a piece of wood and watching a boy dissolve to ash. He now knew the boy was a vampire, but he could feel something in him twist and shatter, leaving behind a steel core. It was molten and burned everything it touched, but it could be forged into a strong weapon.

He stepped into the library and stopped, his eyes closed, and he could feel something in him loosen slightly. It almost felt like he was home. He blearily managed to open his eyes and saw that he was in a library with a cage in the corner and books everywhere. He managed to collapse into a chair at the large table in the center of the room and laid his head on his arms.

"Whoa, someone has too much blood in their caffeine system," a male voice joked behind him.

Rodney managed to lift one hand and flicked him off.

"Ouch, I think you're suffering from caffeine loss," the voice continued, but it moved over to the stacks and came back, chattering all the while. "It's much worse than blood loss, but thankfully easier to take care of. I think I'll be able to have you up and about within a few pots of coffee."

Rodney let out a grunt and dropped his arm. Someone here was a coffee addict translator. When a cup of coffee materialized in front him steaming a few minutes later, he lifted himself off the table, grabbed the cup of life giving fluid and sucked half of it down before the taste hit his tongue. He let out a moan of pleasure. This was good, strong enough to dissolve brittle metals like low-grade steel and tasted divine. Forget translator, he had found the coffee i_god_i. When another cup materialized while his empty cup that he was mourning disappeared, he lunged for it and savored it while still sucking it down as fast as he could. This went on for another three cups before the pot was empty. But Rodney could now function, not well and not politely, but he could function.

He looked around the library, trying to find his coffee god. He spotted the only other male in the library, mid-teens with black hair that he noted was just long enough to look like a good handle but really wasn't. He'd had that length of hair as he was growing up, too. He studied the teen, taking in his sure movements as he sat cross-legged on the floor, back to Rodney. He watched as the boy cocked his head slightly and reached down and touched the floor as his body swayed slightly to the rhythm of a song only he could hear. Rodney felt a familiar pang as he watched him, his eyes solemn. The boy needed to move, needed to be doing something. He could almost see the thoughts in his head running around, never stopping, just flashing through him so quickly he didn't realize he was thinking more than one.

And then the kid turned around, a coffee cup in his hand and a small grin on his face as he watched Rodney's eyes zero in on the cup in his hands. He unfolded his legs, stood up, and handed Rodney the cup. He moaned as he sipped at the hot beverage and half-way through the cup he looked up.

"Thank you," he muttered grudgingly. He wasn't very good with people.

The teen gave him an easy smile that didn't quite make it to his eyes and tilted his head slightly. Rodney returned it. Their kind could always spot each other, even across a crowded room.

"Xander Harris," the boy stated quietly. "Screwed up and coasting."

"Rodney McKay, temporally displaced and burning," he replied just as quietly. Xander nodded his head before putting on a bright smile.

"Willow! How often is it that I get here before you?" He chirped brightly.

"Hi, Xander! How'd you get here so fast? I thought that we'd have to drag you out of bed this early!" a bright female voice stated from behind him.

Rodney's head dropped a little. A morning person. A i_natural_/i morning person. Was there any creature belonging to the foibles of the universe more unnatural? He groaned through his nose and drank more coffee. It was too early to be awake. He heard the girl squeal, winced, and took a gulp of coffee. i_Way_/i too early to be awake. With a small grunt he stood up and went to the coffee maker sitting on the floor. Babble did not a happy Rodney make. Babbling in his vicinity generally meant that someone had screwed up and was trying to cover it up by talking too fast.

When the door to the library was slammed open, Rodney spun around, coffee mug ready to throw and his body posed to flee. When he saw that it was only a small blonde in a cheer-leading outfit, he slowly lowered his arm and faded away into the shadows. He watched Xander look around before spotting him and approach him slowly. The two of them stood companionably in the stacks as they heard the escalating argument.

"This is madness!" Giles suddenly burst out. "What can you have been thinking? You are the Slayer! Lives depend on you! I make allowances for your youth, but I expect a certain amount of responsibility, and instead you enslave yourself to this, this… cult?

Rodney snorted softly. Cheer-leading wasn't that bad. Sure it took semi-intelligent young women and turned them into nothing more than sex objects, and turned them into arrogant bitches that expected to be praised for everything they did, and they became obsessed with their looks… cheer-leading as a cult, he could get behind that. Xander managed to cut off his laugh next to him, not wanting the commentary to stop.

"You don't like the color?" the blonde asked obliviously.

"Do you ignore everything I say as a rule?" Giles asked resignedly.

Rodney could have told him the answer was yes.

"No, I believe that's your trick," the ditz retorted while posing. "I told you, I'm trying out for the cheerleading squad."

That was supposed to be the one thing to defend them against demons? Dear Ancients, kill them all now. Just set off every MAD weapon in existence, it would be a kinder fate.

"What's a mad weapon?" Xander asked him.

"I said that out loud," Rodney stated, rather than questioned. "And a MAD weapon is acronym for 'mutually assured destruction,' which, in turn, means that whoever pulls the trigger says, 'if we're going down, you're going down with us.'"

"Oh." The two of them went back to watching the argument in front of them. Rodney handed over the half-full cup of coffee. Xander took it, a slightly startled grin spreading across his face. He didn't say anything, but drank the coffee with a slight grimace.

"Sorry about the crappy coffee, I'll have some decent stuff tomorrow. If you come in with Giles more often, I'll make sure I have something I can make good coffee from stashed in Giles' office," he offered.

Rodney's head had whipped around at the first sentence. This wasn't even the best Xander could make? He thought that this, the best coffee Rodney had had that didn't cost over a hundred dollars a pound, was crappy? He almost whimpered at that thought as he gazed worshipfully at the teen in front of him, every bit of his considerable mind focused on him.

__--

Xander shifted nervously under the man's stare. It was disconcerting, having that stare focused on him like he was the only thing that existed. He'd never been the object of so much admiration and naked worship focused on him made him feel uncomfortable.

"What?" He asked slowly.

"That was the best coffee I've had that I wasn't shelling out over a hundred dollars a pound for. And I've been living with a bunch of scientists for the last two years; I've had coffee of all kinds. And you think it was crappy?" Rodney hissed out. "Can I keep you?"

Xander thought the older man would fall down on his knees and beg if he said no. "Uh, sure?"

Some instinct for causing chaos made the two of them turn their heads back to the spectacle before them in time to hear Buffy state a desire to do something safe.

"Then cheer-leading isn't what you want to do," Rodney stated. "Besides being a hazard to your already questionable intelligence, you are quite literally letting people who want your position get behind you with blunt objects and trust them to catch you after throwing you into the air. And that's not talking about the pulled ligaments or sprained ankles and wrists, broken bones, or any other injury you can acquire by participating in high school sports."

Buffy stared at him hopefully. "You call cheer-leading a sport?"

"Of course it's a sport!" Rodney yelped. "Do you not see the injuries list? Or the intelligence drop from its participants?"

___-----_____-----____

Xander perched on the counter across from Rodney in the school kitchen, where he was holding a steak to his eye.

"She totally over reacted," he grumbled.

Xander let a small cackle escape. "Most people don't think cheer-leading's a sport because of the list of injuries that can happen. And to be fair, you i_did_/i insult her intelligence."

"I hadn't even started on the sabotage that goes on back stage," Rodney continued. "And I suspect that some of the damage done to her already questionable brain is the result of all the hair dye and bleach she uses."

"Sabotage?"

"Oh yeah, disabling a girl from the other squad before a match, kidnapping a girl from a rival squad on the day of the competition, tampering with the other squad's equipment so that it breaks at the worst possible time, it's all a very viscous world," Rodney stated nonchalantly.

"And how do you know all this?"

"Who do you think was the alibi man? Even if people suspected, nothing was going to happen once they involved me. After all," he smiled bitterly, "I was the star hockey player. And never mind that I was only on the team because my dad insisted I have something extracurricular, I was the best because I wanted to excel at whatever I did. Piano was just about the only thing I've never succeeded at. My teacher said that I lacked imagination, lacked emotion."

Xander snorted and snapped off a salute with his left hand. "A reluctant jock that went on to become a geek. Your dad must have been pissed. Hockey is a high school sport in the US?"

"You salute with your right hand. Using the left is an insult. But if you do it smoothly enough, the officer probably won't notice," Rodney said absently as he removed the steak from his eye and put it back on the plate next to him before grabbing a paper towel and wiping away the blood from the steak. "And my dad was mad enough that he cut me off while I was at college. I worked an assortment of jobs to get through college, and worked at a night club to pay my way through grad school. And I'm Canadian."

Before Xander could reply Willow burst into the room, drawing a glare from the lunch lady, which she ignored, and started babbling about Buffy needing to talk to Xander in the library. Rodney heaved a put upon sigh as the two males stood and started to walk out. He gave a nod of thanks to the lunch lady and followed the distraught red head.

__--------

"I've been slaying Vampires for more than a year now. I've seen some pretty cringe worthy stuff, but nobody's hands ever got toasted," Buffy said.

Rodney, ensconced in the bookshelves and only half-listening while flipping through a demonology book in Ancient Latin, snorted to himself. Only cringe worthy? And she thought that made her tough? She probably hadn't seen anything that made her hurl, like some of the Genii experiments had done to him. He'd watched Koyla skin one of his own men alive before starting on Rodney's arm. He gagged slightly at the description and etching of the ritual on the page before him.

"Any common denominator in cases of spontaneous combustion?"

Rodney was vaguely stunned that she could come up with a question that was not only pertinent, but also useful.

"Rage. In most cases the person who combusted was terribly angry or upset."

"Would it be correct to assume that the combusted person was just coming into magic and was unaware of it, or that they had a small amount of magic that wasn't enough to do anything but which reacted to their anger while in the presence of a catalyst? Or were they merely sensitive to magic and were in the presence of a catalyst?" Rodney asked absentmindedly as he started to read the page in front of him more thoroughly. If he brought this to modern English through the language of the Ancients, it was slightly different than if he just translated it directly. Interesting.

"Ah, perhaps," Giles floundered slightly. In truth, Rodney had been so quiet that he'd forgotten about his guest.

"I doubt she was angry or upset as she did the routine, so she probably didn't do this to herself," Rodney mused as he carefully put the book away. "And since if she was coming into magic, she'd probably be unconsciously using it to help her become a better cheerleader, that avenue is probably out as well."

"True," Xander dragged it out as he thought about it. "So if someone else was using magic to light her on fire, it was probably one of the other hopefuls. We can cross off Buffy and Amber-"

"Why cross off Buffy?" Rodney asked with his arms folded across his chest.

"Hey!" Buffy yelped.

"Oh please, you already have a history with fire, you've proven that you're willing to put cheerleading above Slaying, and you want to be on the team. Is there a guarantee that it wasn't you?" He fired back at her.

"Slayers are traditionally not magic users of any kind," Giles offered. "And the ones that do use it were either witches before their Calling or else had magical learning before-hand. Something about being a Slayer inhibits the further development of magic."

Rodney considered this. "Now we can cross off Blondey."

"Why not before?" Willow asked as Buffy huffed as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Because before we didn't have any proof that she might not have done it, even by accident. She had no magic before being Called, and history has shown that she will not develop it now that she is the Slayer. Possibly the Slayer Essence fills the place where magic would be..." Rodney trailed off as his mind, held in forced idleness for the past week, leapt to the task of presenting theories by the score. "Can I look at your records? It would be interesting to see the trends in other Slayers and magic work. Like the magic using Slayers being less physically enhanced then their non-magical sisters. And can I ask again why they picked a teenager? In the society of the era in which the Slayer appeared, she'd be married and having something along the lines of a kid a year when she was Called. Does pregnancy affect the Call? Can a pregnant Potential Slayer be Called to active duty?"

"Ah, to the best of our knowledge, there were no pregnant Slayers called. Ever. And the only record we have of a Slayer having a child is Nikki Wood, in the 1970's. She was one of the longer lived Slayers, but unfortunately was killed by Spike in 1977, after a protracted fight in the subway. Her son was dragged from the fight by her Watcher, Crowley, but got away long enough to watch Spike remove her duster."

Rodney frowned. "That's not possible. There has i_got_/i to be more than one Slayer who ever had a child, as I said, it's only relatively recently become not only accepted, encouraged, or even common for a woman to remain unmarried until her thirties. Before, she'd have been married off in her early teens, and considered an old maid at twenty if she still wasn't married. Either someone wasn't recording the offspring, as it was common, or-"

"That's i_great_/i and absolutely i_fascinating_/i, but can we please get back to problem at hand? Like i_the_ _burning_ _people_ _out_ _of no where?_ /i" Buffy cut in, bored and irritated at being ignored.

"Hey! I thought it was very interesting," Xander defended. Blowing him off with a snort and a flip of her hair, she continued.

"Why don't you look at your books, Giles? Y'know, do your Watcher thing."

"If we had an IDEA of where to start researching the possibilities, and kept the three of you at the books for the next twelve hours, useless as some of you would be because of a i_lack of actual intelligence_/i," here Rodney glared venomously at Buffy, causing her to recoil slightly, "those of you who have an actual i_thought_/i once in a while and the possibility of a functioning brain i_somewhere_i that might even belong to them," here he gestured slightly towards Willow and Xander, "don't know i_any_/i of the languages the books that would be of actual i_use_/i would be in, and I only speak Ancient Latin, and any of the closer derivatives of it, i_barring_/i any of that, we still wouldn't be able to figure it out. What we i_should_/ibe doing, as anyone with i_sense_/i would be able to tell, is track down the damn witch, male or female, casting the spell. THEN we could get to work on stopping it."

Rodney was a scientist. He was not only an intelligent scientist, but he was a SMART scientist, things which are not synonymous. He had also spent most of his adult career surrounding by other scientists, and the last two years had been spent living in near constant danger from human stupidity and human ferocity while trying to learn things from what he had salvaged and trying to get professional soldiers to let him salvage more and correcting stupid mistakes done by very smart people. He had been conditioned to jump on any sign of stupidity and crush it until the next time. So when Buffy started getting demanding, he lashed out at her as if she were one of the less scientifically inclined of the soldiers on Atlantis. She didn't appreciate being talked down to, and started to fire off with a retort when Willow stepped in, trying to defuse the situation. Xander just sat back with a bowl of hot popcorn and watched because he knew that he wouldn't be able to resist defusing the situation in a i_completely different_/iway if he spoke up. After all, setting fire to the powder keg accomplished the same purpose (achieving a state where the bomb can't go off) but most people would prefer not to go that route.

"I could illegally hack into the school's computer to see if Amber's had any kind of episodes in the past," she offered timidly.

"Check Amber, but also check the squad members and the hopefuls. And any of ex-boyfriends that Amber might have. He could have cast the spell as a revenge kick." Rodney stated, never looking away from Buffy.

"Whatever," Buffy grumbled and stormed out of the library in a huff.

___----____----

Rodney leaned back with a sigh. He had focused on the books that had anything to do with fire, and had tried to steer towards the darker aspects of it. He didn't think that anything that could set a human on fire to the degree Willow had described would be light. He'd still scoured the lighter books, on the off chance that a spell to light a campfire or some such could replicate the effect. He had been surprised to find some books that were written in Ancient among the collection, but the English translations scribbled in the margins seemed to be making the assumption that it was an older form of Latin. It came as no surprise to Rodney that some of the more gruesome books were in Ancient, and while the English and Latin versions were gruesome enough as it was, in the original language they made some of the things that Koyla had gotten up to seem not quite as horrible. If one were to think that it was written by humans, it would almost cause one to think that the human race should be killed to start over with cats.

"What do the inscriptions on the cauldron mean?" A curious voice asked.

"Gah!" Rodney jerked to the side and swore as he spotted a kid, about five years younger than the current pains in his ass. She had long, straight brown hair and he could tell that she was going to be tall. Her features were exotic; she was going to break hearts when she was older.

"Oh, sorry, thought you knew I was here. I'm Dawn by the way," she even managed to look contrite, but Rodney could see a glimmer or amusement in her eyes. He admitted to himself that it was probably amusing for her to watch him freak out. He'd done it enough times as a kid himself to know that. He'd had an unfair advantage though, because the more time he'd spent around ghosts, the quieter he moved.

"Rodney. What inscriptions are you talking about? And is that coffee?" Rodney's attention was immediately drawn to the cup in the girl's hand.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, my mom made it. She's teaching me how to as well. I'm not as good at it yet, but she says that I've picked it up better then Buffy before she stopped fighting her on the issue and stopped trying to force her to learn. I've always thought that the bleach fumes must have affected Buffy sooner than most, because I like the idea of making coffee as good as mom's. That woman should be canonized just for her coffee. Course, I think she should also be canonized for putting up with Buffy being a bitch and acting out even before she burned the gym down at Hemery and Dad being an asshole during the divorce." She stopped, a vaguely horrified look on her face.

Rodney just grunted. "That must have been hard on you and your mom. Having a sister like mine was bad enough, having one that actually sought attention must be even worse. Of course, with the way she's killing her brain cells you may have to worry more about her putting herself into the ICU than anything else. And then where will you be? Stuck stripping for cash among other jobs that you're never planning on breathing a word about to anyone, least of all your co-workers, that's where! College is as expensive as all get out, and if you want to do anything with the way the economy's going, you'll probably need to go onto grad school to get a degree high enough for people to look at you. And grad school is expensive. I spent almost as much time earning money as I did spending it on tuition. I lived off of whatever I could get out of a vending machine, Power Bars, Slim Fast Bars, and linguini and clam sauce. And either drink that coffee or give it to me so I can drink it and stop rambling."

With a shrug, Dawn handed over her cup of coffee and started scribbling down the runes she'd spotted on the cauldron. Rodney meanwhile sipped at the coffee, and his eyelids slid down, and his eyes began to glow, in a figurative way, very faintly. The coffee was very good, a smoother blend then the one Xander had given to him earlier. There was a richer under-flavor than Xander's, and someone had put in genuine cream, smothering the distinctive bitter taste of coffee, leaving him with all that was good. And what wonderful goodness it was. He decided that the child with him was an unfortunate, meant to be taken care of, rather then just a child that had the bad taste to be related to Buffy. And if the mother was anything like her, than it was defects from the father's genes that had screwed up Buffy, and nature had apologized by sending Dawn.

Rodney had never claimed that he was compassionate, non-hypocritical, or even nice. He was just himself, rude, not a little arrogant, and abrasive. But for some people he would make an effort. And he couldn't deny that Atlantis and the people at the SGC hadn't had their own effect on him. He could see, just looking at his actions in the past year, a marked increase in his social interactions, and the Russians at least didn't despise him. Not at first, they just hated him after he'd opened his mouth. But they were honest about it.

"What are you doing here? You're a little young to be in high school. And I don't know why anyone would be here willingly if they didn't have to be."

"Mom's picking Buffy up, but they got into an argument before they even left the gym. I think they're a few halls down, and still arguing. Sometimes I wonder why Buffy went with Mom instead of Dad."

He snorted. "Most likely didn't have a choice. Most kids don't have a choice which parent they end up with during a divorce. Why'd your parents divorce, if you don't mind?"

"Mom finally caught him cheating on her with his secretary."

"Ouch." Rodney left it at that. What else was there to say? There was nothing he could do to change what happened; and he didn't have enough interaction to feel more then a generic sympathy for her.

Dawn nodded and for awhile the only sounds in the library were Dawn's pencil moving across the paper and Rodney appreciative hums as he sipped at the coffee in his hand. He rested one hand briefly on her shoulder; whether as a symbol of support or acceptance he didn't know. But it was peaceful and she had brought him good coffee. He was just about ready to let himself slip into sleep, content for the first time in a long time, and ignoring the sound of raised voices out in the hall, when the peace was shattered when the doors were slammed open and the shouting match was brought full force into the library.

"You were supposed to be keeping an eye on her when I signed you out, not flirting with a guy on the football team!" The speaker was a slim woman with curly blonde hair, average height, and attractive features.

"Why do I have to take responsibility for her running off? I'm not my sister's keeper! I have a life, or at least I did before we moved here!" And that one was his newest pain in the mikta.

Rodney leaned over to Dawn, "I can feel your sister's worry and regret from here." Sarcasm dripped from his words like acid.

"Oh yes, quite. I can tell she's about to rend her clothes and wear sackcloth and pour ashes on her head." Apparently Rodney was rubbing off on Dawn already. She was being more sarcastic than usual. Not that he had any way of knowing that.

"Dawn is your younger sister! And furthermore-"

"Dawn is also in the room," Rodney cut off, feeling annoyed that they kept talking about her like she didn't exist. "And she can hear you and she can think and talk for herself."

"Thank you, Rodney! And I left when you guys started arguing! Ugh, I was fine! Rodney and I were getting along fine, he was watching me, I'm not a little kid anymore!" Dawn burst out.

Rodney snorted. "If any parent actually listened to that line, the world would be much more chaotic. But I don't mind watching her; she shows some promise of an actual brain."

"What?!" Buffy shrieked. "How come i_she_/i gets a compliment and all i_I_/i get is insults about my hair color and bleach!"

Rodney winced and shouted right back. "Because she tries to be i_helpful_/i, she doesn't dye her hair, and she actually asks questions and waits for an answer!"

"What the hell does dying her hair have to do with how you react to her?"

The mother and Dawn watched incredulously as Rodney and Buffy started arguing at the top of their not inconsiderable lungs as he started to tidy up the table he'd been at. He absentmindedly tucked Dawn's sketches into the folder of notes he'd compiled to look at later. Buffy followed him as he began putting away the books. The other two females stared after them open-mouthed as they somehow moved onto the topic of Buffy's homework and anyone within hearing distance got an impromptu lesson in basic algebra and biology.

"Dawn," her mother said faintly as she listened to Buffy finally get a math concept that had been eluding her last year.

"Yeah?"

"Do you think we could get him to help her with her homework the normal way?"

"No."

"Oh." Then, "Do you think we could make sure she stays after until she finishes her homework?"

"I'll walk over here and you could arrange for the gallery to need you for a few hours. This is kinda interesting."

By the time Rodney had finished putting away the books, Buffy had been walked through most of her math and a quarter of her biology homework and Giles was also yelling, though it was at the two of them to quiet down, shut up, or get out. Xander, drawn by the yelling, was sharing a bowl of popcorn with Dawn and her mother and occasionally joining either Buffy in asking questions or Rodney in explaining things, which meant that he drew his own share of weird looks at the way his mind worked. And from people wondering where he'd gotten the bowl of hot, buttery popcorn from when he'd come in empty handed.

By the time the whole group had been kicked out of the library, Rodney had another black eye and Buffy was being hauled away by her ear as her mother, Joyce she'd said her name was, apologizing profusely as she herded Dawn and Xander, who had no idea how he had gotten labeled as one of hers, ahead of her. Rodney was now shouting at Buffy in earnest as Giles dragged him away from the enraged Slayer, a faint blush covering his face at the antics of both his Slayer and his guest. On the other hand, the two of them had managed to avoid damaging the books, and Buffy had shown a slight improvement in her punch and Rodney had reacted a little faster, resulting in a slightly less severe black eye. And Rodney had shown more life in the last eight hours then he had in the week since he'd come to the Hellmouth. This could have some promise.

----___--

Xander shifted uncomfortably in the back seat next to Dawn as the two of them exchanged confused and slightly wary glances with Buffy as she was getting chewed out by Joyce. Any other comments, even ones along the lines of "I'm not related to anyone in this car, can I get out now," were ignored and/or shot down. Quite frankly, all three teens were a little freaked out. Joyce finally started to wind down, causing Xander to tentatively raise his hand.

"Um," he started.

"I'm not done yet!" Joyce snapped.

"Ok," He agreed quickly.

He wasn't going to argue with an angry mother, he did want to survive to see graduation. A strange shiver ran down his spine at the thought of graduation, one that was mingled anticipation and dread. With a mental shrug he put it out of his mind in favor of trying to convince Joyce that he really wasn't related to her and thus should not be in the car. It wasn't going very well.

___---___

Rodney sighed as he scoured the books for a translation of the symbols Dawn had given him. He really wished he dared contact the SGC, or that Doctor Jackson was back on Earth again. Instantly he pounced on that thought and changed the word "wished" with "wanted" or possibly "desired," but that last word was a bit iffy. He was very wary about which words he used ever since his run-in with the, vengeance demon he thought was what Giles had called her.

With a sip of some of yesterday's left-over coffee, still the best coffee he'd ever had under a hundred bucks, he returned to checking out the books. Xander had stuck around, but had a strange look on his face as he ground coffee beans with a mortar and pestle. Every once in a while he'd look away from his work and stare off into the distance before shaking his head and turning his full concentration back to making coffee. Rodney didn't care if he'd been dancing the hula if he turned out coffee as good as yesterday's.

"Why do you keep looking in the direction of the gym?"

Apparently Giles didn't have the same tolerance for the teen's antics.

"Cheer-leading tryouts," was all he said.

"Good grief! They're still holding try-outs, even after what happened yesterday?" Giles exclaimed.

Xander favored him with an ironic look. "Giles, first of all, they're cheerleaders. Second of all, did you miss the obituary in the school paper or the list of the dead in the announcements?"

"Which is totally not normal by-the way," Rodney couldn't resist adding. "I can believe that you and Babble" ("Willow," Xander corrected) "don't realize that, living with that your whole life, but Bleach" ("Buffy," Xander and Giles corrected him) "really should have noticed that by now."

"Must you antagonize her?" Giles asked.

"Yes, yes I must."

___----____-

Rodney cracked his neck to the left and heard and felt four loud, deep pops and let out a sigh of content before moving it the other way for another five cracks. It was lunch time, and Giles was making him actually take the time to eat, although he had conceded on not eating the food from the cafeteria. As Rodney had said, meat doesn't bounce if there's nothing wrong with it. And bread should not be able to substitute for Styrofoam. He stifled a snort as he suddenly remembered the time in high school he and Jeanie had bribed the whole school to buy out the bread and had then used it to fill the principle's office before they'd locked it and got the art department to make the outside look like a package. Good times, good times. That particular principle had had a nasty habit of checking out all of the female students under his care, and it was not unheard of for him to try for a few gropes. The jackass had even had the gall to say that Rodney would end up in prison.

He stretched out under a tree and his eyes slipped shut. A small smile curved the corners of his lips upward, making him resemble a giant cat. Perhaps a small nap to rest his eyes wouldn't hurt.

The next thing he knew was Xander shaking his shoulder and it was time to research again. He'd slept through lunch, but he felt fine. Xander did slip him a power-bar though. And after school was over, Dawn joined him and Xander researching and listened to Rodney and Buffy scream out another round of her homework as Giles tried to get them to shut up and Willow tried to get them to stop fighting only to get sucked into the match. And it almost felt like home. And if tears dripped down his cheeks as he dreamed that night, well they were gone by morning and no one had seen anyway. And if the thought of Atlantis sent shards of broken faith, broken dreams, and broken hopes shooting through him like so many shattered crystals, he was accomplished at ignoring his soul and heart bleeding.

But maybe he wouldn't have to search for another twenty years to find a home, the thought danced in his sub-conscious.

___----__-

Xander slunk through the front door and raced as quietly as possible to his room. His room, in his house. It had taken the talents of himself, Buffy, Dawn, and Rodney to get him out of the Summers' household. And they still weren't sure that it would last, because Joyce seemed to be subconsciously determined to mother Xander as if he were her son and she was bull-dozing right through anyone who stood in the way of that goal. It was kinda strange, to have so much love and care placed on him, especially since Rodney had joined in the act of taking care of him, in a rough, 'I have no idea what I'm doing' kinda way. He was trying, so he got points there.

Xander flopped down on his bed and let out a small 'whuff' as the air left his lungs. He'd had the disconcerting experience of having someone want him around. He rolled over on his back and stared around at his room. It was a little comforting to be back in his own room, but he was already kinda missing the room Joyce had practically branded with his name. He heaved out another sigh and settled deeper onto the mattress before sitting bolt up-right. He'd had to leave his backpack at the Summers'. He whimpered. If he went back and got the backpack, Joyce would find and grab him. If he didn't get it, his parents would eventually be contacted by the school and they would make him go get it. And Joyce would still get him. He whimpered again. It wasn't even that Joyce was mean; it was the fact that the only people he was used to receiving attention from were the librarians. And she had a total blind and deaf spot to anything that would suggest that Xander wasn't supposed to be living with her.

He snuck back down the stairs and into the kitchen, skirting beer bottles, strange puddles, and the creaky spots on the floor, and grabbed the phone. He hesitated for a second before calling Willow. He didn't want to find out that Joyce knew when he was calling and could track him down. It wasn't paranoia if it was happening to you he assured himself.

"Hey, Willow? I left my backpack. Could you call Buffy and get her to bring it to school with her?" He listened to her response. "Because if i_I_/i go back and get it, she'll make me stay! Willow, the woman has a built in Xander-radar! It took me, Dawn, Buffy, and Rodney to get me out of the house! Willow, it's not funny!"

But his best friend continued to laugh her head off before promising to call for him and threatened to get the story out of him. He hung up the phone and whimpered again. He prayed that Willow wouldn't set off Joyce's radar. As he made his way upstairs, he wondered again if ignoring Willow's crush on him was the best thing to do. But Willow was like his sister, and he wouldn't shackle her to him. Willow deserved better then him, much better, and he thought that maybe she was more crushing on the fact that he showed her attention. Xander let out a dark chuckle. Willow's parents were neglectful, Jesse's had been prone to forget that their son wasn't already an adult, and he'd have paid good money to be neglected more by his. Willow didn't have a crush on him because she loved him like that, she had a crush on him because he was safe.

And enough with psycho-analyzing his best friend, her parents did that enough for the rest of the world. He stopped. Since when did he use words like psycho-analyze?

____---____-__--

Rodney settled himself back in the chair as he sipped Xander's coffee. He'd reheated some of the coffee from earlier that day, even better then yesterday's, and it was reducing him to a moaning wreck again.

"Do you mind not sounding like the soundtrack for a pornographic movie? Surely the coffee, vile drink that it is, isn't that good," Giles said testily.

"Drink some and than tell me I'm over-reacting. Besides, I'm still waiting for you to pull out that British tea that you keep mourning," he shot back.

"There is a reason I'm mourning it, and that is that I don't have any!"

"And until you can get me something with the equivalent level of caffeine as Xander's coffee, I will continue to drink it. And I do not sound like the soundtrack for a porn movie."

"Yes, you do."

"No I don't, if I were to sound like a porno, there would be more movement."

Rodney started comparing the runes that Dawn had given him to the books in front of him. She had done what she could, but she'd also been side-tracked into taking notes on what Buffy's homework had been about. She had even presented him with a short paper on what they'd argued about when she'd arrived at the library. In short, she was showing the signs of having the potential to become a wonderful assistant for him. He drained the last of his coffee and whimpered a little.

"Do we have anymore of the coffee here?"

"No."

"I need to go get some from the school, and I think there's a reference book that might be helpful. If I can get this stupid," here Rodney started using some words he'd learned from Cadman and the Marines, throwing in some curses he'd learned from Teyla and Ronon. Giles just stared at him before grabbing the keys and then the two of them were out the door.

"You'll have to teach me those languages, sometime. When did you learn Czech?"

"By the Ancient Vespa! I'm going to kill Zalenka!" And then he was cursing his second, only this time carefully avoiding Czech, but slipping up and throwing out a few curses he'd learned from the SGC. "That stupid son of a whore!" as well as a few simply vulgar curses he'd learned in English.

Giles cursed himself that his car couldn't go faster. New languages didn't fall his direction everyday after all, and the sooner he got to the school and this whole homicidal witch out of the way, the sooner he could start learning them. He didn't notice the black tendrils of energy wrapped around him and Rodney, who was now muttering dire things as he quickly compared the runes to yet another book. The Hellmouth gave a small sigh as it eased it's energy through the two men. Time was against it, but it wasn't going to sit back and let things happen this time. No, it wouldn't let it's children die, and a black mist surged up and enveloped Xander as he slept and a black fog surrounded Joyce Summers as she slept, diverting and changing the impetus from a spell that hadn't been cast on a subject that was already there. After all, the monks in this reality only shoved and forcibly melded the Key into the soul of the Bearer, but the spell they cast would be the same. Morons.

----____---

The next morning found Xander hastily making coffee and handing out mugs as quickly as he could. Rodney and Giles were both glaring at each other in between sips and Rodney attempting to steal Giles' mug.

"Get a bigger coffee maker, or two," he ground out.

"Get me someone who can make real tea," came the acidic reply. "And a steady supply of it."

"Like that's going to happen." The two of them glared at each other some more.

"Will you two please stop with the death glares? I'm almost afraid to walk in between you. And do either of you know if Buffy got my backpack?" Xander asked.

"What?" Rodney looked like he couldn't decide to be pissed or not. "You mean we went through all that trouble, got you out of the house, at the risk of limbs might I add, and you didn't get the backpack?"

"I had other things on my mind, like getting out of the house! And my limbs were the ones in the most danger!" Xander defended.

"Oh please! She wasn't going to rip your limbs off if we got caught!"

"No, but there were times when I wasn't sure they were going to still be there when and if I got out!"

"What the bloody hell are you two talking about? Xander was kidnapped? When was this," Giles burst out.

The other two men shuddered.

"Joyce Summers is nuts. She's latched onto me like I'm her kid and she dragged me home with her two days ago and then again last night! I had to break out of the house, without actually breaking anything. It took, like, three hours!"

"Surely you're exaggerating, Mrs. Summers appeared to be a completely rational woman from what I've seen of her," Giles frowned.

"Yeah, well, appearances are deceiving," Rodney said bitterly, unconsciously rubbing a spot on his arm. Giles, less dependant on caffeine then Rodney, narrowed his eyes slightly in thought. "Buffy might have the makings of a half-way decent brain, if she doesn't kill it with bleach, by the way. Good at thinking on her feet, but don't give her too much time to think about stuff, she'll start to choke a little."

"You actually got her name right," Xander grinned.

"Hello, genius here! While she shows signs of possible brains, it is my penance to try and nurse it along," he scowled. "Why couldn't Blondey have the decency to not show some tactical thinking?"

Giles and Xander traded fondly exasperated looks as Rodney grumbled as he went through some more books. Willow came into the library, looking out of it and adeptly intercepted Giles' next refill of coffee.

"I just ran into Cordelia. How does she manage to ignore everyone?"

"It's the invisible man syndrome. She has no clue that we're even mammals, much less human beings. A blessing in her case, a curse in Buffy's," Xander stated.

"You're not invisible to Buffy," Willow protested.

"Worse. I'm part of the scenery, like a rug you've walked on so many times you don't even see it," Xander mourned.

"Like a pen that's all chewed up and you know you should throw it away but you don't, not 'cause you really like it that much but more 'cause you're so used to it and-"

"Brooke, that was the point. Please don't run the railroad spike any deeper into his skull," Rodney interrupted.

"It's Willow."

Buffy burst into the library.

"Someone blinded Cordelia!"

Rodney, having already made one connection with the happenings in this town with his past in Pegasus, had a vision of Koyla putting out the eyes of the admittedly attractive girl with a hot poker, followed by another vision of him gauging them out with his thumb.

"Blinding your enemy to disable and disorient them is a classic example of dark witchcraft," Giles stated and quickly flipped to an etching in one of the books. Rodney felt his heart start working again.

"First vampires, now witches. No wonder you can still afford a house in Sunnydale," Xander quipped wryly.

"But why would anyone want to harm Cordelia?" Giles sounded confused.

"Wrong question," Rodney cut across Willow's response. "A witch set Amber on fire, and now a witch blinds Cordelia. The question should be, what do Amber and Cordelia have in common? The answer is cheerleading. Amber was a sure bet to get on the team, and now Cordelia is on the team. Someone wants on the team. Ergo, a hopeful."

"Amy," Buffy said. "She's desperate to get on the team. She sounded like she'd do anything to make her mom's dream come true."

"What? You're telling me that this witch is casting horrible, disfiguring spells to become a cheerleader?" Giles seemed hopelessly lost.

"Your point being?" Rodney and Buffy looked horrified that the two of them had spoken in unison.

"Priorities. If I had the power of the black mass behind me, I'd set my sights a little higher than making the pep squad."

"I think you're underestimating the pressure a parent can lay on you," Buffy stated. Rodney, more awake after his severe jolt of adrenaline, wasn't so certain as he watched the other man's eyes focus on something inward briefly. "If you're not a picture perfect carbon copy they tend to wig."

"Cheerleading was kind of her mom's last hurrah," Willow agreed.

"Sad, but I've seen it happen," The Canadian said.

"Let's be certain she is the witch before we arouse her suspicions. She's capable of some very ugly things." The Watcher seemed to be determined to undercut any plans that involved charging head-long into danger. Rodney took a moment to offer up a quick prayer to Teyla's gods that the man continued to do so.

"Alright, you're a high school girl, desperate to make the team and please your mom, you turn to witchcraft. What's the first thing you do?" Buffy's recent streak in logical thinking was annoying Rodney to no end.

"Check out the books on witchcraft!" And Willow seemed to be trying to loose points with him.

"That's the last thing you do! You don't leave a paper trail!" Xander's status in areas outside of coffee rose a few points. Granted, they were already higher then he normally set people's, but they went up just the same.

"It'll just take a minute," Willow protested from her spot at the computer.

"We don't have a minute! Buffy was first alternate, Cordelia is now off the team, Buffy is now on it. She's the next target!" He tried to hustle Buffy from the library, but she didn't budge.

"Xander," Willow drawled from the computer.

Xander put on an innocent face. "Yes?"

"Guilty!" Rodney declared.

"What?" Everyone looked at him strangely.

"No one looks that innocent unless they're guilty!"

"There is no charge against me!"

"Ah-ha! You admit you have something that deserves a charge!"

"I deny having made any such statement! I was merely asserting the fact that there has been no charge from which I must defend myself!"

"A likely story!"

"Xander, if you want to look at semi-nude women, there are easier things to get at then the books about witchcraft," Willow interjected.

He blushed as Rodney snorted. "How long ago did you get those books?"

"Before the school year started," came the mumbled reply.

"How the bloody hell did you get books out of the library before school started," Giles yelped.

"I've got access to the system."

"How?" The question came from everyone in the room.

"The old librarian added me. She was pretty cool, and she made these great pastries, they looked like cinnamon rolls but all stuck together. She called it Monkey Bread." When the confusion of the others still didn't clear up he threw his hands in the air. "Come i_on_/i people! I learned about vamps and the Slayer and things that go chomp in the night because I heard Buffy and Giles going at it from the stacks! Why would I be there since we all know I don't have an interest in school and stuff?"

"Duh, library is someplace you're used to going," Rodney snorted.

"Cause you didn't have the textbook you needed for math class," Willow interjected.

"Hello! Can we get back to the witchery mess that's going on here?" Buffy interrupted.

Rodney huffed, but nodded his head.

"We'll need a conclusive test anyway," Giles stated as he flipped through his book. "There should be one- yes! The ducking stool. We throw her in the pond. If she floats, she's a witch; if she drowns, she's innocent."

The others just stared at him except Rodney who was looking at the ceiling beseechingly.

"Some of my texts are a bit outdated."

"You think?" Buffy stated.

"Ah! Yes. This should work," Giles seemed to be trying to move quickly past his small misstep. "You'll need some of her hair, a little quicksilver, and aqua fortis."

"That's just mercury and nitric acid, we can get it in the science lab," Willow said. Rodney shot her a considering look. He'd recognized the ingredients, and was impressed that she had as well. While not an indication of the intelligence he had at his mercy on Atlantis, it was a promising start.

"'Heat ingredients and apply to witch, if a spell has been cast in previous forty-eight hours witch's skin will turn blue.' Oh, and you need some eye of newt."

As the three teenagers wandered out of the room, discussing methods for retrieving the ingredients, Rodney leaned over to Giles.

"What if someone has had a spell cast on them? Would the spell react to that?"

"A good question, but the answer is no. The combination of ingredients reacts to use of inherent magic."

Rodney gave him a flat stare.

"But how does it discern the difference between attacking magic, versus inherent magic defending against the use of a spell?"

"I, hadn't thought of that."

"And what if the witch is being possessed? Would the Possessor draw on its own stores, or would it use the mana stores of the victim? Could magic just lash out, without the conscious will of the witch? And if it did, would the spell still say that magic has been cast?"

"Depending on what was possessing the victim, it would use either its own stores, the stores of the victim, or a combination of both. And depending what kind of magic the user has, magic can lash out without thought. As to whether or not the spell would pick up on the use, the answer is yes. It is a very imprecise use of alchemy," Giles looked troubled now. "But I'm not certain how to make a more precise model."

"So," Rodney stated. "We have an imprecise alchemical process that only tells us if someone has had magic used within the confines of their body within the last forty-eight hours, not if the magic was done with harmful intent, intent to heal, or for all we know intent to pleasure. And we could possibly be tipping off a more experienced magic-user that we're suspicious."

"I'll start finding protective amulets and charms," Giles moved toward the stacks.

"I'll start trying to find ways to track down a spell's origins," Rodney grumbled as he moved to the shelves himself. "i_Why_/i are our grunts high school students? Why can't we have adult grunts? Huh?"

Giles ignored the grumblings of his companion as he searched through the shelves.

"Do we have a dictionary for Ancient Egyptian? And, what the hell is this language anyway? I think it's something from South America," Rodney asked loudly.

"Should be by the door," Giles replied from across the room.

"Including the probably South American one?"

"How the bloody hell should I know where the dictionary is when I don't know the language?"

"You're a librarian!"

"And since when did that make me psychic!" Giles demanded.

"When you became a librarian with knowledge of the supernatural!" came the retort.

"That is not a valid answer!"

"Fine, since you became a librarian with knowledge of the supernatural and ancient languages!"

"And what does that mean when I can't see the language?"

"Use your psycho powers!"

"It's psychic! Not psycho! And I'm not either!"

"There's a difference?"

"Of course there's a difference!"

The two men kept the banter flowing back and forth as they searched the library, interspersed with Rodney getting a crash course in several languages. Rodney felt something in him relax, just a little, as he cursed at the book in front of him. It was supposed to have been written in English, but the author's handwriting was so bad that it might as well have been cuneiform. Giles had been unsympathetic when he'd brought it up, but the fact that Rodney had started his complaint with some of the curses he'd picked up from the grunts on Atlantis, and had directed it at the lighting, might have had something to do with that.

Rodney's latest rant was cut off when the three teenagers burst into the library.

"It's Amy all right, I just don't think she realizes it," Buffy announced.

"Wonderful, and do we know if she's fighting off the efforts of whoever is attacking her? Do we know that she is, in fact, not a victim of possession? Do we know if her mother is the one casting the spells? Do we know if her mother is casting spells on Amy to make her a better cheerleader?" Rodney cut in. "No we do not! But I have found something that might be able to track the origins of a spell, and with any reasonable facsimile of luck, it will tell us who cast it and not the culture that created it. Oh, and talk to Giles to see if his search for protective stuff turned anything up. And where's your sister?"

"I am not my sister's keeper!"

"That's great and all, but I'm more interested in knowing whether or not your mom is going to drag me home with her again," Xander interjected as he looked around nervously, as if just mentioning Joyce would cause her to spring out of hiding. "Cause, while she's a great person and all, I do sorta have to live with my family."

"Irrelevant at the moment, but if we should probably start planning your escape while you help me try and decipher this moron's handwriting. I sincerely hope his knowledge of the supernatural was better than his handwriting and grasp of basic grammar, or not only did he meet a messy end but we are shafted as well," Rodney responded.

"What does shafted mean anyway? Where did the term come from?" Willow asked as the three of them moved to help.

"Not you, Bleach, you're supposed to be working on a kata or something," Rodney pushed Buffy deeper into the library and ducking away from her punch. "Giles has the stuff by the cage. And the term shafted comes from Ancient Rome. They would take the criminal, prisoner, or whoever they were torturing and position him over a spear at least an inch in width so that it was just pressed against his anus, tied his legs in place with wet leather, and left him like that in the sun. As the leather dried, it shrank and slowly impaled him on the shaft. Very painful, very messy, very slow way to die."

"I'm sorry I asked," Willow said, looking a little green.

"I'm sorry you asked too," Xander agreed. "Where do you learn things like that?"

"Around. I'm interested in a strange slew of subjects. Mostly science, but random trivia is some of the things that float around in my head. The Chinese had a similar torture, only they tied the guy over a bamboo shoot. Those grow about an inch a night."

"Interesting," Xander drawled out. "So the Romans weren't the only sickos in history."

"Oh absolutely not," Rodney replied. "The history of man is filled with men doing horrible things to other men and occasionally letting women join in. You should look up the Norse, they had something called the blood eagle. Nasty, just nasty. And when you had someone drawn and quartered, you had their guts pulled out of their body, tied a rope to all four limbs, tied it off to wild horses, and then set the horses off in different directions."

"Okay, that's an interesting conversation to walk into," Dawn said as she plunked down at the table.

"School just got out, how did you get here so quickly?" Buffy demanded.

"I left fifteen minutes early, the teacher didn't even notice. I went out the window. And I used some of the tricks we used to get Xander out of the house last night. Shouldn't we be working on another escape plan?"

"Protective amulets are taking precedence," Rodney said distractedly. "Now get over here, I need your eyes."

The group at the table worked with cheerful insults tossed at each other as Willow tried to mediate with the sounds of Buffy receiving a lesson in swords. Rodney would occasionally take the time to throw an insult her way which would lead to her trying to clobber him with something she threw, most often her shoes. Rodney just threw them back at her.

"Why do you throw those back? You know she's going to nail you with them again," Xander asked after one such exchange.

"Cause this way she doesn't throw a book or something pointy and with sharp edges."

"Good plan," Dawn agreed strongly. And then ducked as the recently returned shoe flew at her, though it was noticeably slower than the ones thrown at Rodney.

"Bitch," was tossed along with the shoe, but it had a fond undertone to it. Or maybe that was wishful thinking as that one comment managed to snowball into another homework argument. Giles stood off to one side for a few minutes, an odd look on his face. His Slayer was responding to the other man, the Slayer Essence was responding to him. It was different from the regular response though. There were only ten recorded times that the Essence responded to anyone in the entire history of the line, and every single time had signaled a change in the Essence. For better or worse, things were going to change.

"My coffee machine!" if Xander and Rodney didn't Call a new Slayer because the current one broke the coffee machine. Strangely, Giles felt a small grin tug at his lips as he threw himself into the argument.

"It was my bloody coffee machine! Xander, don't bite Buffy! Buffy, don't strangle your sister! Willow, put the book down! Dawn, don't you dare use that pen to- Rodney! You're an adult, act like one!" Such were his war cries as he joined in the insanity.

____---____

A dark figure moved slowly across the lawn before settling down in the bushes. A silent signal sent another figure scurrying past to settle down next to a car.

"Are you sure that we couldn't walk faster?" came a dubious voice ghosting up beside the fugitive.

The fugitive jumped and gave out a hastily suppressed yelp. "Don't i_do_/i that! Where did you learn to do that ninja stuff anyway? You're a scientist!"

The scientist gave a smug grin and sing-songed out, "Classified!" A strange look came over his face, unnoticed in the darkness.

This was a lot like the way he'd acted around Sheppard. Down to the banter and occasional physical violence. Why was he adapting so quickly to this new place? Why was this group adapting so quickly to him? This wasn't right, and it wasn't fair, to this group of Hunters, to him, or to Atlantis. Xander shouldn't be a replacement, none of them should.

"Hey," Xander reached over and bumped shoulders with Rodney as if he had done so uncounted times before. "Quit despairing so much. What kind of heavy thoughts are you having?"

Rodney felt a jolt run through him. That was very similar to something Teyla would have done and said. He closed his eyes briefly and drew in a short breath through his nose. This was disconcerting, but he could feel himself wanting to confide in him. As he opened his mouth to refuse, an unnoticed black mist rose from the ground and enveloped the two of them briefly and he found himself speaking without knowing where the words were coming from.

"You remind me of people I thought I was close to, before," came out his mouth before he clamped his lips shut.

"You never did say where or when you were from," Xander said.

"Where I'm from is classified," Rodney muttered. "As to when, it's 2005."

"Hm," was the distracted reply. "Wait, what?"

"Down!" Rodney and Xander dropped to the ground at Buffy's hissed warning.

A vampire in full game face hurtled through the air to land on the picket fence and dusted.

Rodney stared before turning his head back to Xander.

"Did you know she could aim that well?" He asked, covering up his surprise. This was the first time he'd faced a vampire while he was awake. Another vampire flew over their heads to land on top of the car. Rodney grabbed a stick off the ground, popped up, and staked the vampire before dropping back to the ground. "Finally a use for my anatomy class."

Xander looked at him curiosly. "Didn't you have vamps in your time?"

"Not that I noticed, besides some more classified information," Rodney trailed off before giving a half-hearted glare. "Would you believe that I actually want to talk? I don't talk about my feelings! I'm a guy. And Teyla's not here to slip it into the conversation."

"Teyla was one of the people you thought you were close to?" Xander said.

"I was close to her. She had this way of calming you down, but she could kick some serious ass. I miss her."

"How'd you get in close quarters with her? Sounds like she'd be on opposite, thing, social scale? Geeks and social queens generally don't mix."

"We were assigned to work together. I was prickly and abrasive and she didn't care. Somehow she worked her way past every defense I ever threw up and just, stayed there. And by the time I knew how to get her out for good, I'd already adjusted to having her there and didn't really want her to leave," Rodney said quietly.

"Will you tell me about your team? Or would it hurt too much?" Xander asked quietly as they started moving forward again, this time with Buffy on point.

Rodney was silent for so long Xander thought he wouldn't answer before he started speaking again.

"One of my teammates was named Aiden, he was a military grunt and young. We had our own clashes, he felt like I was being condescending towards him, and I was, but that was because he was a grunt and not because he was black like he thought. We ended up talking about it once when, well that's classified, but we probably would have killed each other if we weren't so busy returning fire. It's kinda weird because I know he's alive now, but I still think of him as being dead..." Rodney quietly talked about Aiden as he had been, telling funny stories and just small ones that revealed a tough but friendly young man and left a few clues to the character of the man telling the stories.

Rodney had just started a story about the time Aiden had convinced their team leader that Rodney was off having a fling with a native girl and that she was seriously making some major moves towards having an extended relationship when all Rodney had really been doing was talking the team out of getting a prison sentence for trespassing or something (neither of them had been too clear on what they were being charged with. Rodney wasn't sure, but he thought that Sheppard still believed that. Rodney was still slightly in shock that he'd managed to do it) when Buffy hissed for them to drop.

"This is getting monotonous," The older man grimaced as they obediently started closely examining dirt while observing Buffy.

"Not really sure what that means, but if it means that this is getting old, then I completely agree," Xander chimed in.

"Why are we attracting so many vampires? Why? We haven't even gone four blocks!" Rodney moaned.

No one noticed the waves of black mist rolling off of the pair and sinking into the ground with a decidedly sheepish air. Then again, no one was looking with the right sort of eyes. If they had, they would have noticed a small sign appear in front of a failing shop near the college. It was a mystical sign, etched in what appeared to be black smoke that hovered before sinking into the wood. Old demons were nothing if not patient and good at long term planning, the longest active Hellmouth in history was even better.

__----

The next morning found all of the Scooby Gang sitting in the library drinking Pukah Kyber, an exceptionally strong tea Giles had generously shared with the side-effect that all of them had to take cream and sugar in it, and trying not to fall asleep and vowing to replace the coffee machine ASAP.

"Buffy, i_please_/i get your mother to back off, we need to sleep!" Rodney begged.

A weary mummer of agreement came from the others as they sipped at the tea.

Buffy, the only one slightly more awake then the average insomniac at three AM, threw her hands in the air.

"I'm trying! But it's like everything I say goes in one ear and out the other! Are you sure that one thermos will be enough for Dawn?" She asked Giles as she brought her hands down to guard her tea. She missed coffee, but no way in hell was she letting someone else touch her only source of caffeine. She hissed for good measure. "Back off!" Xander only settled back with a mutinous look after Rodney had speared him with his eyes. He had a really scary glare for normal guy.

"It should, how late did you two end up staying?" Willow groaned.

"That was a horrible mangling of the English language," Giles reproved.

"You knew what I meant to ask," she shot back. "What more do you need?"

"We didn't get any sleep," Buffy moaned. "First we got you guys out and I took you two home, and Dawn had to distract mom, and then mom grilled us until, like, three about where you were, and then mom went really freaky with the over-protective stuff. The only reason we got out of the house was because the alarm went off. i_And_/i I keep feeling like something's watching me. Have since last night. And I feel like there's this pressure pushing on me."

The others sat up quickly.

"You're the target," Rodney said quietly. "And the shot has been fired."

*Author's Note*

Evil of me to leave it there, but I wanted to give you guys something. I was originally going to finish out the episode, but life happens and I got a bunch of nice reviews from another site I have this at so I decided to update across the board. As you can tell, there have been changes happening already. And I know that there is no Atlantis in this chapter. Don't expect a lot of Atlantis yet. This story is mostly focused on Rodney and how he changes, and how he effects the Buffy world. There will be a few changes that his presence will make in the Stargate universe, but we won't get a front row seat for it.


	3. Fight For Your Life

Chapter Three

Willow and Xander had gone with Buffy to cheerleading practice while Rodney and Giles started scrambling for a protective charm. At least until Rodney came across a warning in one of the books about not using the detailed charm against some curse of family of curses because the reaction would kill the person you were trying to protect. Their focus then swung to trying to find a way to discover the spell that was attacking Buffy. The two men devolved to their less pleasant roots. Rodney would later say that it was a good thing that they had been in a high school because every kid there had already lost most of their innocence about swear words.

When the three teenagers came back in after lunch, Buffy was looking grey and swaying back and forth and seemingly oblivious to the people around her.

"Willow, do you know why I love Xander? It's because he's not like other guys. He's completely and totally one of the girls," She looked at Xander. "I'm just that comfy with you."

Rodney and Giles both winced.

"Ouch," Giles muttered.

"If you want to kill a man without trace, inspire him to do it himself," Rodney muttered as well.

Willow looked torn between being sympathetic towards Xander and being pleased that Buffy wasn't interested in him. Eventually sympathy won out.

"Guys? I don't feel so good," Buffy said before she collapsed.

She didn't get far before Rodney, conditioned by a string of medical emergencies that had been falling onto him on Atlantis, and Xander grabbed her.

"It's taking effect," Rodney said. "Giles, get me a pint of tap water, Tree, get me a cloth of some kind, Xander, help me get her into the office."

There was a brief moment where the two men had tried to go in opposite directions, but Rodney had sorted it out. ("Why the hell would we go to the nurse's office? It's of _mystical_ origins and we would then have to explain why she was with us in the first place!")

The group gathered worriedly in the library office before Rodney started feverishly putting up wards and schooling Xander and Willow in checking vital stats and castigating Giles into helping with the wards and running diagnostic spells.

Finally, almost ten minutes later, Giles stopped.

"I'd almost say it was the second half of the Bloodstone Vengeance Spell, but the first bit is missing entirely. The first part is supposed to having her acting like a quart of alcohol was in her system," he said.

"She was acting kinda loopy right before she turned grey," Willow offered tentatively.

"Why vengeance? Why is she getting even with Buffy?" Xander asked.

"She made the team, the bitch didn't," Rodney spat. "Giles, check the wards, I'm not sure I did them right." He would not fail again.

Rodney kept the other three moving quickly, before he sat back.

"I _think_ I've managed to buy us some more time. Another thirty minutes to the three hours," he said tiredly.

"Three hours? Three hours until what?" Willow sounded strangled.

"Yes," Rodney looked at her strangely. "Three and a half hours till she dies."

"What?" Pandemonium broke out among the two teenagers, but Buffy was strangely silent.

"Don't you care? You're going to die!" Xander had snapped at her.

"I had figured that's what would happen," She replied quietly. "I hoped Giles had something."

"We can reverse all the spells if we can get our hands on her spell book."

"And if we can't?" Willow challenged.

"We have to cut off the witches head," was the quiet response.

"Show of hands?" Xander asked as he raised his hand in the air. Rodney didn't mention that the boy's other hand was shaking slightly before putting his hand in the air as well.

"No," Buffy said adamantly. "It's not Amy's fault. She became a witch to survive her mother."

"I don't care why," Xander snapped. "I care that you go on breathing!"

"And now she's about to become a murderer," Rodney said coldly over-top of the teen. "While her mother may be the reason, it's still Amy's decision to take that extra step to ensure you die. I saw the same texts as Giles. There is no way to accidentally cast a Bloodstone Vengeance Spell; there is no way to do that without deliberate and conscious intent. She cast the spell with deliberate intent to kill you! If it comes down to it, we will kill her before you die."

"Why do you care?" Buffy snapped.

"Dawn would be sad if you died, complain about you though she does. Besides, you're more important to survival then Amy."

"Feel the love," Willow muttered.

Buffy glared but nodded grudgingly. Rodney let out an exasperated sigh.

"You seem to feel that only demons or the soulless do bad things to other people. It's not true. Quite frankly it's probably better for you to face this now, early on, before the idea of humans always being the good guys or the victims gets ingrained in you. Trust me, as a scientist assigned to a military unit, I can tell you with absolute surety, that the history of man is not a peaceful one. Humans have been doing cruel things to each other for years," here he raised his hands in a supplicating gesture, having just realized that he was rubbing the scar. "I don't like it, but I can accept it. I can accept it, and try to make sure that the ones responsible for the more heinous acts can't hurt anyone else. There is good in the world, but there is a hell of a lot of bad as well."

Buffy was silent as she processed this. She drew in a breath, "Giles, where would she be casting the spells?"

"She needs a sacred space with a pentagram," the librarian began.

"That cuts it down a lot," Xander interjected. "Aren't that many churches that allow pentagrams."

"A large pot," Giles continued smoothly.

"At home," Buffy cut him off. "Help me get up. We'll go to her house, find her book-"

Rodney firmly pushed her back down. "_We_," He stressed, pointing towards Giles and himself. "Will go to her house and find the book. _You_ will stay here under heavy wards with Xander and Willow, who also have the task of keeping an eye on Miss Witch." He frowned thoughtfully. "Not sure how you two want to divvy that up." He shrugged. "Not my problem so long as both tasks get done."

"And of course, keep her away from the science lab," Giles threw out as the two men started towards the door. "We'll need it to cast our spells."

Xander looked at Willow in contemplation for a few moments after they left. "Willow, you stay here, I'll go watch Amy. You can read up on some of the stuff they were talking about."

"What? Why you? Why can't both of us stay?" Willow panicked slightly.

"Because we need to do two different things, at least, in two separate locations," He said as he walked out the door. "And it's less suspicious if I'm the one keeping a close eye on the cheerleaders."

The door to the office swung shut after him. As Willow started to frantically dig through the tomes around her for something she could do, Xander quietly walked over to the weapons before carefully selecting a blade that was between a long knife and a short sword in length and tested the edge with a hair. Satisfied, he fitted it under his shirt before walking out the door.

Xander stood off to the side, desperately trying to block out the noise as people around him cheered and roared. His eyes never left the figure of Amy, and he tried to prepare himself for the eventuality that Giles and Rodney would fail, that he would have to watch a classmate he'd known since kindergarten die. It was hard. But something in him that had been burning away his soul since he had staked Jesse hardened into a firm resolve. He would do whatever it took to keep his friends safe. Even if it meant taking out, no, _killing_ someone he'd known since kindergarten.

Immediately after he had affirmed that to himself doubt set in. It wasn't as easy to take a life, not the way it was portrayed in action movies. But Xander had a very good imagination, and something of a destructive childhood, so he set himself to try and imagine what it would be like. He forced himself to cut out the fantasy of him coolly beheading her and Buffy falling all over him and insisting on dating him, knowing that it wouldn't happen, especially since she didn't seem to think that Amy was guilty of anything but surviving her mother.

He watched as Amy momentarily reeled before shaking her head. The look in her eyes was one he recognized from his father's when he was so drunk he didn't remember Xander was his son and wasn't hitting on his wife. She recovered enough to get on the pyramid before falling with a scream, making the crowd laugh and the head cheerleader furious. The look on Amy's face cowed her right before Amy took off out of the gym. Grimly, he followed her. Slinking along after her with stealth he'd took an accelerated course in to get out of the Summer's household several nights running. A shiver ran down his spine and he reflexively threw a terrified glance around himself.

He felt himself grow cold when Amy turned a corner and ran right into Willow.

"Amy?" Willow asked tentatively.

"Get out of my way!" She snapped.

Something about the way she ordered Willow around set his blood boiling. So he stepped forward, making no effort to be quiet, and did the one thing that always pissed off children living in their parents shadows.

"So, Catherine, how are you liking the return to high school?" He drawled.

Her spine went rigid and she snapped around to glare black death at him. She clenched her hands by her side so tightly that her knuckles were white.

"How could an oblivious _clown_ like you tell?" She hissed.

Xander barely managed to clamp down on his surprise, and had the girl in front of him not been so blinded by rage he knew he never would have been able to disguise it.

"Please, Amy was worried she wouldn't make the team because she couldn't get her body to move like yours, and then suddenly there's no doubt, no confidence issues, and she moves like a champion cheerleader. What other answer could there be?" he spun out the lie and prayed she believed him.

He was concentrating so much on the witch that he didn't notice Willow sneaking up until Amy(Catherine?) spun around and snapped something that dropped Willow to her knees scrabbling at her throat. Enraged, he wrenched the sword out from under his shirt and lunged at her. She whipped around and stumbled a little over Willow's body as she dodged backwards. With a hard shove, she pushed Willow into Xander and he went down, sword dropping out of his hand as he tried to avoid skewering the red head, and took off. Xander's head hit the floor with a resounding thud and he lay still as blood started to seep out of his scalp.

Rodney found himself wishing he had his gun as he gingerly held a knife in his hand. A gun didn't require him to up close and personal. It sometimes happened anyway, he thought bitterly as a memory flickered through his mind. The revelation that Catherine had stolen her daughter's body in an effort to relive her youth had been a disturbing one. His grip on the knife tightened as the door rattled and Catherine(Amy?) drew back in terror. Giles was too focused on the casting to see the door move.

"Be sated! Release the unworthy!" Giles called.

The door shuddered and Rodney took a fleeting second to wish that he knew how to throw knives as Giles again demanded 'release' twice more and the door flew open and a crazed woman stood there with an axe. Before she could do more than take a step into the room, the Watcher snapped 'release' one last time and suddenly the crazed air was gone from the cheerleader. While Amy and Buffy stared at each other in wonder, Rodney spun back towards Catherine and stepped into her path just as she screamed and dove for Buffy. She didn't have time to do anything until she'd impaled herself on the knife that Rodney had raised on pure reflex.

The group watched as Catherine choked and stared down at her chest in shock. Blood was starting to gently well up around the blade as she reached up and touched it. Xander stumbled into the room, and bumped into Amy with the sword gripped in one hand and his head in the other and stared at the scene.

"Oh," was all that escaped the dying woman's lips. She looked up at Rodney with wide eyes. "I just wanted her to have the same glory. How did it go wrong?"

Rodney stared at the woman before answering her quiet whisper in a low voice. "The best of intentions can lead to the worst of damnations."

"Take care of her," she breathed out before the insanity returned. A wordless scream of pure madness ripped out of her throat and her hands flew from the blade to claw at Rodney's eyes. Xander lunged past Amy, and was hit in the face by the spray of blood and grey matter as her head exploded following a curt gesture and word from Giles as her nails grew long and jagged and the nails of one hand dragged along Rodney's face, digging five furrows down the side of his face, the smallest claw dragging by the corner of his right eye and her thumb claw just missed his ear. The jolt from the blast pushed her sideways and back off the blade, saving Rodney's life as the talons of the witch stopped just short of his artery but scarring him for life.

The teenagers all gagged. Rodney flinched and Giles took a shuddering breath. He hadn't realized he'd remembered that spell.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Amy announced in the calm tones of someone going into shock.

"Try and get to the sink first," Rodney advised. "It's easier to clean up, and easy is definitely important since we have to get rid of them body."

With that statement he carefully cleaned the knife on his pant leg as the three teenagers raced to the sinks. Giles started towards Rodney feeling very old, very filthy, and though he hated to admit it, a part of him was invigorated and he hated himself for the adrenaline pumping through his veins and that it felt damn _good_. Rodney started swaying and Giles cursed as he rushed to the other man's side. A quick mutter and flick of his wrist had small glowing symbols appear beside Rodney and Giles cursed again as he recognized the symbol for poison.

He snapped at the teens, forcing them to bottle down their horror, and when Willow arrived in the room, only to head for the sinks as well, he snarled at her in between spells. She came over to his side, shaking and trembling and puked several more times as Giles used pure magic to stitch the gouges closed, only there needed to be something holding it together so with a short gesture he separated out Catherine's sinew from the rest of her body. As a dark spell, it didn't do so cleanly, causing the children to puke again. Rodney groaned and hissed throughout the procedure and Buffy had to hold down his arms and torso while Xander and Amy had to hold down his legs. The whole thing took half an hour. When it was done he sat back with a weary sigh and banished Catherine's remains.

"I'm sorry," was all Giles said to Amy. Than with a weary wave of his hand he staggered to his feet. "We'll need to scrub the blood away manually. If I do much more I'm going to be absolutely useless for the next few days. As it is, we still have to make sure not to leave traces of our presence. Amy, I cannot say how deeply sorry I am. No child should have to witness their parents' death, especially not such a violent one."

Amy sniffed and raised her hand to swipe at some tears only to flinch when she spotted the blood on her hands. "It's, not okay. But she was crazy. And she tried to kill…" Her voice trailed off and tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Doesn't mean she wasn't your mom," Xander said roughly, his own voice hoarse from throwing up. "Just means that you know it wasn't your fault."

"Not that it helps at first," Willow said. "According to the psych studies anyway."

Rodney stumbled to his feet and stood swaying. "We need to get this cleaned up, fast."

The six of them, moving slowly, started to clean up the lab. If they hadn't been so drained, emotionally as well as physically and spiritually, the clean up would have taken even longer because of stomach contents rapidly leaving the body. Afterwards they gathered in the library. Rodney sat down heavily. He didn't want to do this. He really didn't want to do this, but there was a reason that the military forced the teams to have debriefings, and maybe there could be some benefits emotionally speaking. He didn't want anyone bottling this kind of trauma up. He didn't have a shrink on hand that wouldn't slap the crazy label on them just for telling about the basic truths.

"I know you don't want to think about what just happened. Believe me, I know that you do not want to think about what happened tonight. But we need to talk about it," He said exhaustedly. "Willow, what did you and Xander decide after we left?"

Slowly, painfully, he pulled the events of the evening from everybody. He took notes in the language of the Ancients, needing to write it down, but knowing it wasn't something that he could leave lying around. As soon as he got his hands on a laptop, he was encrypting it tighter than what the SGC had in his time.

____----Atlantis, 2005

Sheppard flinched as the Marine he was sparring with slammed him down to the ground just a little bit harder than was strictly necessary. Several of the Marines, new recruits and veterans, were glaring bloody murder at him. And one of the scientists had oh so casually mentioned that she knew how to kill someone without leaving forensic evidence. She'd been fingering a scalpel while eyeing his jugular vein quite closely. He'd made some interested noises and had hot footed it out of there as fast as he could, because the newbie marine next to her had been playing with a knife of his own. And then one of the new medics had appeared behind him and had sweetly informed him that they needed to run a battery of allergy tests on a new substance another team had brought back. The way she'd emphasized the word battery had made him incredibly nervous.

"Aphra, sweetheart," the scientist cooed. "Don't be silly. The science department will run comparisons with the substances already in the database. What we will need to do is make sure that that rash the good Colonel is sporting isn't the result of a newly developed allergy."

Aphra who'd started pouting rather prettily brightened up. "Oh, yes! It could be an incredibly life threatening allergy."

Sheppard felt that she shouldn't be nearly as cheerful about that as she did. He'd been avoiding the med bay just in case though. Which meant that he had to limp back to his rooms to take care of his bruises on his own. There really wasn't much he could do. He was in charge of the Marines, and even if he wasn't what could he say, that the other kids were playing too roughly? He stepped out of the transport and right into Lorne, who grabbed his arm and pulled him into an empty lab.

"Sir, I don't care what you have to do, just get McKay back," he said as soon as the door slid shut.

"What?" John was shocked. He hadn't realized that Lorne was so emphatic about McKay's place. Yeah, everybody had definitely been feeling the difference, because no insulting Zalenka but he was no Rodney McKay, but he hadn't thought his second in command was one of those howling for his blood.

"Apparently," His second gritted out. "The science department, lead by Zalenka by the way, has decided that _any_ Marine is fair game. And the veterans of Pegasus are complaining to _me_ because _you_ are a part of the problem."

John stared. He'd expected for the scientists to be mad at him, after all, Rodney did do more than his fair share of their work and he'd hovered over them and bragged about them almost as if he were a father bear, but he hadn't expected to lose the military as well.

"Why not talk to me, even if I'm part of the problem?" He wondered out loud.

"Because a lot of us veterans are pissed that you seem to have forgotten that the point of this expedition is the scientists and their work," came Lorne's sharp retort. "McKay was good people, and just because he messed up on a large scale, once, and in a repeat of Samantha Carter, but this time it was an uninhabited system, pisses a lot of us off."

With a curt statement telling him to get his act together, Lorne stormed out of the room. When John went to follow, the doors snapped shut right before he could walk through them. When he tried to get Atlantis to open the door for him, he received the mental impression of a woman disdainfully sniffing and jerking her head the other way. Blinking, he tried again and received a resentful huff. Atlantis was mad at him too. Crap.

____-----Sunnydale 1997

Once again the Scoobies, plus Amy, found themselves in the library before school started, drinking more of Giles' tea, while Rodney pushed his way, loudly, through learning to speak, in Xander's words, "a language that's only important when someone's trying to end the world."

"Shut up, Xander," Rodney said tiredly from where he'd dropped his head on the table. Then his head popped up. "Giles, I'm going to kill you."

"What did I do?"

"I don't have to be here, and yet here I am," Rodney said indignantly.

"So?" Came the British man's reply.

The resulting battle took the remaining time and all four teens took it upon themselves keep the tea safe. They accomplished this by putting as much of it into themselves as possible, which, if it hadn't been for the bell for classes going off, would have lead to another drawn-out battle.

The four teens shuffled out of the library, only one looking anything resembling life. Rodney stared after her in envy.

"I want her energy," he said.

"It comes with its own curse, you realize," Giles said acidly.

"Yeah, a genetic inclination towards shortness and stupidity," came the quick retort.

A thump followed by a yelp came next. Buffy then raced back in cursing to grab her biology book from a grouchy Rodney before leaving in a rush again.

"I'm going to be brain damaged before the school year is over," he complained.

"Learn to duck."

The teens snickered tiredly as they wandered towards their first classes of the day. For the most part, they drifted through them in a haze of caffeine and quick bites out of the vending machines. Lunch found the four of them crashing in the library, where Rodney and Giles had been busy checking to make sure that there was nothing hinting at the real goings on the previous night. So far nothing had come up, and there were no firewalls in this time that Rodney couldn't decimate. He made a mental note to start writing test walls for him to crack so he didn't get rusty. And to scope around for people he could train up to build him walls to test himself against. Start with Willow, then observe the computer classes and see who was using the time for, um, people who flipped through the grey as charcoal areas of working a computer.

As Rodney sat and contemplated how to screen for people _he_ could trust but who were willing to hack, he took the opportunity to steal some of Giles' tea. They were settling into a state of mayhem and mutual damage when Amy had shuffled out of Giles' office and burrowed into Rodney's back.

"Biology class is next," came the muffled explanation. Rodney stiffened before turning around and awkwardly wrapping his arms around her. He stared straight ahead, his eyes slightly distant.

"No way in Hell are you going back in there so soon. Any of you," he said tranquilly to the other three as they stood frozen in the acts of trying to get enough energy for the rest of the day.

"Uh, not to rain on your parade or anything, but how are you going to stop it?" Buffy asked, looking pale and withdrawn. Her hands had a slight tremble that she hid by wrapping them around her tea cup. "I would love not to have to go back so soon."

Xander casually puked on the floor. "I think I might have the flu, and I think I passed it around," He announced over Giles' exclamations of disgust and dismay. Rodney just looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"You can puke on demand?"

"Of all the things you could focus on, you choose that?" Xander asked.

"Well it's a pretty unusual talent," he defended.

"It's disgusting!" Giles interjected. "Where did you learn such a, a repulsive ability?"

Xander looked indignant. "It's not something that can be taught, Giles, it's something you have to fight for."

"Am I right in assuming that you have to get the four of you to the nurses office before she'll let you cut the class?" Rodney asked, once again in the present.

A black mist began to waft up from the ground under their feet. It began in the shadowy parts of the library but soon rolled over and around the objects in the weapons cage. A small ability of the Hellmouths was the repression of the awareness of the supernatural events that take place on it. It was a chicken and egg question, did the innate ability of the Hellmouth to repress the events lead to humans doing the same, or did humans doing it teach the Hellmouth? It didn't matter at this point, as that ability was used to make the group ignore the black mist even as it rolled and wrapped around them like steam, causing to Willow to suddenly pale and then flush before she puked. Thankfully she made it to the trashcan first. Buffy was on her knees next to her soon after.

"Guys, I don't really have the flu," Xander said uncomfortably. The suffusion of black energy soothed him, causing him to sway slightly as he relaxed and lost a bit of his adrenaline. His eyes slid slightly shut, giving a glimpse at the man, the predator, he could become as they almost, not glowed for that would imply that there was light, but the opposite of glowed.

Giles felt a shiver run through his body as his muscles tensed and then relaxed. Concern for his Slayer obscured his mind from realizing the slight roll in his step, smooth and balanced, the beginnings of a fighter's grace, as he hurried to her side. Rodney's sharp eyes narrowed slightly as he did see the transformed movements. Amy shuddered in his arms and tilted her head up.

"I'm going to be sick," she announced.

Rodney somehow managed to get behind her and hold her hair back as she too puked.

"Ok, first order of business, call the nurse down here," He said as he rubbed her back in soothing circles, seemingly much more comfortable with this kind of contact than any other. "Second, get a janitor."

It took most of the kids' biology class to get everything sorted out. Matters were only further complicated when Dr. Gregory, the biology teacher, was called over to the library and one very confusing moment when Giles had almost blown Slayer secrecy out of the water when he'd claimed responsibility for Buffy and, by some strange bureaucratic logic, the other teens as well. Rodney somehow managed to talk his way into being put down as Xander and Amy's emergency contact, and then discovered that that had made him Willow's as well. He got some black glares for his response of, "What is wrong with this bureaucracy?"

After everything had been sorted out, Joyce Summers arrived with Dawn in tow. And it got complicated again.

Joyce Summers stormed into the library like a human hurricane. Only worse, because unlike a hurricane, they had no prior warning until she slammed open the library doors and started ripping into people. She'd bundled up Buffy, Amy, and Xander and had been pushing them gently out the door when it came out that Willow's parents were in Europe for a conference. That had her taking a one way trip to join the Summers' household as before she knew it, she was squished between Xander and Buffy and in front of Amy as they were herded out the door. Rodney had immediately started after them yelling, leaving behind a stunned and quiet library.

Giles cursed and tore after them. "Wait! You need to put back the books! Dawn, stop hitting your sister with that tome! Xander, don't encourage her! Amy, leave that trophy case alone, that was not intended to be a bludgeon!"

Willow popped her head back into the library and looked at the stunned administrators. "Can we get our biology homework?"

___----

Later that night, the Summers' house was filled to bursting with people. As anyone who has a large family, and large amounts of extended family, and has had the occasion to be in a small house with them all for a family reunion, that was not a calm and peaceful thing, especially since there were only two bathrooms. The neighbors were treated to a loud screaming match between Buffy and Rodney as they waded through her homework again. Xander had taken the opportunity to point out that she hadn't read the assigned biology homework the night before. After homework was finished, and everyone fed, Giles and Rodney started to make motions towards leaving.

"It's too late at night for you to go anywhere! You'll have to stay here. Willow and Amy are rooming with Buffy, and I suppose Dawn could stay with them while you two stay in Xander and Dawn's room," She insisted.

Rodney knew Xander would make him regret it. He knew it. All it would take would be withholding the coffee that was his divine province. But he had to do it.

"You make Xander and Dawn share a room? Wasn't that inappropriate once he hit puberty? Why aren't Dawn and Buffy sharing?" If looks could kill, the look Xander shot him would have stabbed him forty seven times, burned him, and then skinned him.

"I suppose so, but for some reason there was a mix up at the real estate office and we ended up in this house. And as for Buffy and Dawn not sharing a room," here Joyce grimaced. "I do want to sleep at night, Rodney."

"A fair point," He conceded. He was sitting, lounging really, on the couch with a coffee mug. Xander and Joyce had joined forces to make the coffee and Rodney was ready to start singing hymns of praise in their honor. Dawn was sitting at his feet, leaning against his legs as she sketched something, her eyes occasionally darting up to look at something. Amy, Buffy and Willow were giggling over a magazine while Giles read the tome he'd stopped Dawn from clobbering Buffy with. To an outsider the scene would have looked quite domestic. To them, it was a sanity preserving distance from each other while still being in range to jump into any brawls that might start.

The two deities to coffee-making wandered back into the living room. Xander plopped down next to Rodney and rested his head on the back of the couch and Joyce settled down next to Dawn and pulled out her own sketch pad. Rodney just stared at the wall, not really seeing it. He didn't react when Joyce shifted around and started sketching him, or when she moved to the other side of the room to do the same. Dawn eventually yawned and rested her head against his knees, heavy lidded eyes fixing on a point only she could see. Joyce went into a frenzy of sketching, especially when one of his hands rested on Dawn's head.

Giles glanced down at his watch and he winced at how late it was. He settled himself comfortably back in the chair and was about to turn back to his tome when he remembered that he had teenagers that had classes the next day, even if they would most likely be spending biology in the library. He gazed contemplatively around the room, wondering if he really had to do the responsible thing and make them get some rest. A mild war broke out in his mind, oddly resembling the mental equivalent of the brawls that Buffy and Rodney got into so much. Eventually he sighed and cleared his throat.

"It is nearly half past eleven, I do believe that there is school tomorrow," he hinted gently. When the children looked at him uncomprehendingly, he let out a deep gust of air through his nose. "Go to bed."

A quiet chorus of half-hearted grumbles and moans came from the teens but they obediently helped each other stand and stagger up the stairs. Dawn only mumbled and turned her head further into her make-shift pillow.

"Dun wanna move," she slurred.

Rodney only hummed and stroked her hair slightly. "Bed," he commanded gently.

Xander slid an arm around Dawn and the two of them stumbled up the stairs. Rodney set his coffee cup on the floor and stretched out on the couch. A few minutes later, he was dimly aware of Joyce tucking a blanket around him.

__---

An older gentleman, named Clancy, made his way through the science lab at Sunnydale High. The lights were off, and his flashlight had a green bulb in it. He carefully ransacked the cupboards that he could open. He chuckled darkly as he held up Dr. Gregory's glasses, forgotten in the confusion of the afternoon. These could fetch quite a nice price on the black spell market. All personal paraphernalia of the high school teachers could. Being able to control someone who worked near the Hellmouth was an endearing thought to many, but he preferred to find the objects and sell them. It made more sense to him to- A large, serrated claw speared into his neck and another reached out and disemboweled him. The sound of frenzied feeding filled the room along with the rip of flesh and the dull, wet cracking sounds as bones broke under the onslaught.

Clancy the thief would steal no more.

* Author's note

Not a lot, not for how long I made you guys wait, but there is a good reason! I lost my memory card that had all of my files on it, including this chapter, but luckily I'd sent it to my beta so she could get me the first half. And then life happened. For a while I was the acting head of my department at work, and am over-joyed that I no longer am, especialy since no one told me about the different aspects of the job until they were asking me why they weren't being done.


	4. Bodies and Aftermath

This is the same chapter I posted on tth, I just posted on different days. Quite frankly, I suspect that I will ALWAYS post on that site first. It's easier to review my work to make sure I did it right.

Bodies and Aftermath

The next day saw all of the teens and the two men getting out the door on time, for Giles. Which meant that the teens were incredibly early. A fact that was not causing pleasant feelings, as Giles went in early. However, it was also so early that Rodney followed them out the door without registering the fact that he didn't have to. If anyone from Atlantis were to see him, they would have likened it to a Gate team scientist after being beaten half to death following his team to safety. Unfortunately, Rodney had been in that position many times, and the veterans of Pegasus were quite familiar with the sight. The morning routine of fights continued, starting over who got shotgun. This was solved by an exhausted Rodney zombie-death-glaring them into submission and taking the seat for himself. Any and all complaints were dealt with via a swift growl and, in one case with Willow, a smack to the head.

Rodney was stretched out on his side on the couch in Giles' office when the Giles came slamming into the library, startling Xander, who was attempting to figure out the mystical method for creating the tea that had been all that had sustained them for the last two days. Amy was stretched out across two chairs, one in front of her and one behind, as she did the splits on top of them and Buffy was running through a kata while Willow hacked into the coroner's office. All of these activities came to an end, Rodney rolled forward off the couch, reaching for a gun that wasn't there, Xander dropped the spoon and flinched, Buffy lost her balance in a kick as she tried to turn around and fell hard, Amy jumped but didn't go far due to lack of leverage, and Willow let out a small yelp and fell out of the chair.

"That blithering moron!" the English man shouted. "Letting that, that, _completely unqualified_ parody of adult life-"

"Mister Giles," a woman's voice entreated from the hallway. A stunning woman walked into the room and trailed her hand down his arm, in a distinctly 'friendly' manner. Buffy started bristling unconsciously. That was _her_ Watcher the bitch was fondling! She narrowed her eyes as she heard the murmur of the woman's voice and noticed that both Rodney and Xander appeared to be struck dumb. Amy had also tensed up, and seemed just as unhappy as Buffy, especially when she'd favored Rodney with a very not innocent look.

"Excuse me," Amy cut in politely as she swung herself off the chairs she'd been stretching on. "But who are you?"

The woman let out a polite laugh. "Oh how rude of me. My name is Miss French. There was a mix up at the county office, and I was sent to fill in for Dr. Gregory. Imagine my surprise when I showed up only to be told that it wasn't necessary. Well, it turns out the good doctor needs a short vacation."

"That's nice, see you in biology then!" Xander blurted out. He looked like an over eager puppy.

Rodney, in contrast to the other men in the room, looked expressionless. He looked almost like a predator, but Buffy thought she could detect a hint of wariness around him.

Internally, Rodney was going through a struggle. Yes she was damn pretty. But slavering after a strange woman he'd just met was more of John's, no, Sheppard's forte. He felt strange as he realized that this was the first time he'd thought about Atlantis in almost twenty four hours. A tinkling giggle rolled throughout the library as Miss French left the room. As soon as she was gone, Rodney's natural paranoia, and his Pegasus induced paranoia, kicked in. He was not a teenage boy to be ruled by his hormones. Nor was he a Kirk-wanna-be wandering around picking up STDS like they were candies from the store. He stopped and made a mental note to shoot that one off at Sheppard.

"Excuse me," Amy said with narrowed eyes. "But can I just say, that _I don't like her_!"

"What? Why not?" Asked a bewildered Xander.

"She gives me the wiggins," came the short retort.

"Oh, Sabrina, has your dad called yet?" Rodney snapped out of his memories and back to the present.

"Huh? Oh, no. He and his girlfriend are in Colorado for a conference. The school called him, and he's on his way back. He's probably going to take me home with him after school today. And my name is Amy."

"What?" Rodney squawked. "He's had _how_ long to get his ass on a plane? You're his only child, (you are an only child, right?) and he can't be bothered to come get you the second he heard there was trouble?"

Amy thought it was slightly funny that Rodney was more offended then she was, but didn't think that he would appreciate it if she pointed that out. She instead changed the subject.

"You've seen the bureaucracy of this school in action, when did it give you the impression that it was something that loaned itself to urgency? Besides, a person isn't missing until they've been gone for twenty four hours. And in this town, missing is often just a nice way of saying 'dead, but we don't know where the body is yet.'"

Rodney devolved into muttered curses darkly, presumably against whatever 'brain-dead, half-witted imbecile' had decided that letting a sophomore in high school alone after such a traumatic event. He didn't seem to allow for the fact that the school had no way of knowing that Amy had seen her mother die. No one wanted to be the ones to point it out to him, as he still had the knife from the night before and was fingering it rather disturbingly. Giles finally felt compelled to try and subtly head off the verbal assault.

"Um, Rodney, do you, um, know how to _use_ that?"

"Giles, the best swordsman in the world doesn't fear the second-best swordsman, he fears the worst swordsman because he doesn't know what the dumb guy's gonna do," came the almost gentle response.

"Right." Giles dropped it and actually backed up a step. "I'll just take that as, I mean, ah, I'll just go over there, shall I?"

"You do that," Rodney said, giving the other man a strange look as the teens hot-footed it to class.

Xander wasn't sure what to think when Rodney started in on Amy's dad. Yes, it was nice to have someone else to help take the brunt of Rodney's mother-henning, but he couldn't help the spark of jealousy that surged up in him. He pondered the strange occurrence as he sat down for his first class. He looked towards the front of the class, before realizing that he was so tired, he couldn't remember what class he was in. Whatever sleep he managed the last two days was filled with nightmares. Giving up, he folded his arms on the desk in front of him and tried to get some sleep. He managed to wrench himself out of a nightmare before he interrupted the class halfway through.

He rested his chin on his arms and his eyes blearily took in the back of the teacher at the blackboard. Only to realize that he wasn't sure whether or not he was supposed to be working on a math problem, or constructing a sentence. He supposed it was possible he was supposed to do something with chemistry or physics. Was he even in those classes? He contemplated his class schedule for the rest of the block.

Xander could quite proudly say that he got to all his classes before lunch. He did this by snagging the first person who looked vaguely familiar, handed her his class schedule and promised to pay her fifty bucks to get him to and from classes, and ten bucks the next day for the same thing.

"But that's forty dollars less!" she protested.

"And I'm cleaning out most of my comic money for the month on this. What does that tell you about my financial state?" He snapped. "Look, its ten bucks a day for the predictable future. I'm Xander by the way, now do you want to be my seeing-eye-girl or not?"

"I'm Marcy," the brunette said. "And you're right; it is ten dollars more than I have. Now, my blind man, your classes match up with mine, and the next one is this way."

"Not that it would matter since I'm paying you, right?" He asked.

"Not for today, I'm getting fifty bucks. That would be worth possibly being late to class and sprinting to and from my classes and yours. Ten bucks isn't worth that much running."

"Your spirit of humanitarian effort is awe-inspiring," Xander deadpanned.

"Do you even know what humanitarian means?"

"Not if you want the dictionary version."

"I see. Neither do I," Marcy admitted cheerfully as they walked into their next class. There was a slight hang up as she tried to drag him to her usual spot, but was stopped by Willow who had a slight scowl on her face.

"Xander, who's this?"

"Willow, best bud, this is Marcy, my seeing-eye-girl. Since Rodney seems intent on making us actually _study_," Xander managed to make himself sound scandalized at the concept. "And that cuts into my sleep, on a major, didn't get to sleep until never for the last two days, and on the better chance of not making my parents leave their nice haze of booze-induced slumber prematurely, I am taking some proactive measures towards helping my future. And Marcy was the first person I even slightly recognized and the closest. And you, are not supposed to have caffeine. Bad things happen when you have caffeine. Why did I let you have caffeine?"

As Willow protested she tried to steer Xander away from Marcy, but Xander was having none of it. The point became moot when the teacher came in, but Xander and Willow continued to argue quietly about her caffeine intake. Xander kept a firm grip on Marcy's wrist even when he fell asleep, using it as an anchor to keep the nightmares at bay. Willow glared discreet daggers at the sight. When she noticed, Marcy glared right back. She'd seen the way Xander had tensed and the slight quiver of his shoulders and the fear had radiated off of him during their first class. If holding onto the wrist of someone he'd never really seen before kept him calm, well, she still remembered that he could disappear pretty well himself unless Cordelia was in a particularly foul mood, and then that looked more voluntary to pull her attention off of everyone else.

When Xander started shaking, she twisted her wrist until she could wrap her fingers until she could close them around his wrist. He stilled before his grip tightened until she was sure that it would leave bruises. But she didn't let go. In the end, that was all that mattered.

When Xander arrived in the library first, still being led by Marcy who did indeed have bruises forming on her wrist, but then so did Xander, all Rodney did was raise an eyebrow and point them to the office.

"The couch is quite comfy actually. And I can almost guarantee that he's too tired for you to have any worries of your virtue. Please be seated, and know that due the bureaucratic _pile of shit_ that is your school's administration, when they show up to discover why you aren't in class, you will not be going to the rest of your classes."

Marcy looked up halfway there, intrigued by the lure of being legitimately out of class. "Keep talking."

Rodney went to answer, but stopped and gave her a considering look. If he couldn't _find_ someone good enough to challenge him…

"How good are you at computers?" He'd make someone good enough to challenge him.

"Not very, why?" Even if she didn't want to.

Rodney shoved the couch in front of the computer and shoved the two teens down, excitement overruling such things as considering whether or not Giles wanted the couch moved, what his new protégé would think, or even what he'd do when the defective genetic contributors laughingly called administrators arrived. "Well, you're about to get a lot better."

"Do I get a say in this?"

"Not really no. And you get to learn how to do it with one hand to boot, unless you can get him," a jerk of the head indicated the now comatose brunette coiled around her, "to grasp either your waist or ankle. Good luck, that's the sleep of the absolutely exhausted. The only thing that'll rouse him now is a physical threat, or a bucket of ice water."

Willow, Amy, and Buffy walked, or staggered in Willow and Amy's cases, into the library to find Rodney perched on the back of Giles' couch, barefoot, with a girl sitting between his legs, Xander coiled around her and half lying in her lap, as she glared death at the computer. This was such an odd sight, even to someone being exposed to the supernatural on a regular basis that they stopped to make sure they were seeing things correctly. Amy grabbed a Latin dictionary and one of the texts off the shelves and settled down at one of the tables while Willow shrugged and flopped down next the odd trio and leaned her head against Rodney's knee. She surged forward along with Rodney a few seconds later to grab Marcy's wrist.

"You asking to get caught?" Willow blurted.

"What do you mean?" Marcy demanded.

"Let me put it this way, if you were breaking into a building, you're about three inches from setting off the alarm," Rodney said sarcastically.

Buffy drifted into the office as a squabble broke out before bolting back and joining them on the other side of Rodney. Unlike Willow, she did not join in the lesson, but somehow wrapped herself around Rodney's leg, Xander, and Marcy in a complicated, only-a-flexible-person-can-pull-this-off array of limbs and joining Xander in taking a nap. And it was to this example of utter chaos that Giles walked into. He stopped and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Rodney, if you are able, it would be best for you to extract yourself from your current position. Willow, please do _not_ do something _blatantly_ illegal in front of me. Buffy, I sincerely hope you actually found time to record your biology homework, because the administrators in this school do not have knowledge of the supernatural and we cannot get you out of biology lab again." He winced as he realized that the newcomer was probably uninitiated. Not that it mattered, as she was too busy trying to throw the dread machine off the table to really hear what anyone was saying. Not that he faulted her, he despised it as well.

Rodney attempted to roll backwards off the couch, but Buffy's death grip on his leg prevented that. Instead, he ended up half slung across the back of the couch and half dangling on the floor. Only his quick grab for the back of the couch prevented him from a very uncomfortable landing. He attempted to wriggle out of Buffy's grasp, with limited success. He managed to get his leg free enough to hook his knee on the back of the couch before Buffy grumbled and yanked him back again. Giles couldn't help the snort that escaped him.

"I doubt that you'll be getting out there anytime soon," Giles said. "Have fun!"

"You sadist!" Rodney snarled between his clenched teeth as he hopped on one foot trying to yank his leg back from Buffy, with limited success. "Shut up and help, or get me a stool and a book!"

Marcy, who had been laughing at Rodney's misfortune, suddenly found herself with a lapful of sleeping Willow. "Um, little help here?"

"And how," Rodney's tone was acidic. "Do you propose we do that?"

In the end, the end of lunch was the only reason Rodney got his leg back. Giles had handed him a stool and a book, as ordered, only to get hit with a puzzled glare.

"This is English, I think. But I can't make out at least, hm, half the words."

"That's because it's a Scottish children's book," Giles said cheerfully.

"What!"

"Well if you're going to be reading the Watcher's Diaries, you need to be able to read the dialect. For some reason the majority of the better Watchers are Scottish the farther back you go in the Diaries. We haven't quite figured out why."

Rodney had grumbled, but still hadn't given the book up, claiming that it was later ammunition. He didn't say whether or not he meant as blackmail, or a physical missile. Given his propensity for physical violence, Giles was almost certain it was the latter. Almost, because Rodney had spent a disturbing amount of time alone with Xander, who had openly admitted to blackmailing his cousins several times over the years.

Xander stumbled after Marcy, feeling very grumpy over the lack of sleeping surfaces and caffeine. This was clearly a perversion of nature as bad as any that came from a hell dimension. Too bad Buffy wasn't allowed to Slay high school administrators. Or Rodney. Admittedly, it wasn't Rodney's fault that he'd had nightmares all last night, or that Rodney had insisted on having a private conversation with each of them that afternoon- actually that was Rodney's fault. Huh. Xander's gaze slid over the familiar view of the biology lab, only to stop at the spot on the floor where Catherine had died the two nights ago. Only Marcy's firm grip on his wrist let him walk past it. Beside him, her wrist clasped in Marcy's other hand, Willow was no better. Xander blindly reached back and grabbed Buffy's wrist, who was gripping Amy's hand tightly. The five of them settled quietly at a lab table, Marcy not knowing exactly what was going on but infected by the somber mood of her companions.

Miss French swept into the room. The eyes of the boys snapped to her, except Xander who seemed more interested in the back of his eyelids. A slight frown crossed her lips before being swept away in a blinding smile.

"My name is Natalie French, I'll be substituting for Dr. Gregory," she said.

A girl raised her hand. "Do you know when he'll be back?"

"Sometime next month," here she trailed off in such a way that it was obvious she was waiting for the blank to be filled in.

"Aphrodisiac, yes, that is my real name, no I don't know why my parents named me that," Aphrodisiac said with a roll of her eyes. "And, Blayne, I can assure you, any comment you make about my name, I have heard before."

"I was just going to ask if she was going to pick up where Dr. Gregory left off," Blayne said innocently.

"Yes, his notes indicate that you were right in the middle of insect life," Miss French said, having decided to forget the previous conversation. She picked up the praying mantis, fingers curling around the case. "Now, the praying mantis is a fascinating creature, forced to live alone. Who can tell me why- Xander?"

Xander lifted his head off the desk. "They ain't exactly picky about what species their eating."

"Very good, Xander. Yes, the praying mantis is a cannibalistic species," she smiled warmly, ignoring the chorus of 'ew's that followed her statement. "It's not their fault, it's how Nature designed them, noble, unique and prolific."

The Scooby girls exchanged looks that clearly stated 'this chick's nuts.' The class continued on, the only surprise was when Miss French declared that they would be making praying mantis egg sacks for the school science fair and only Xander didn't volunteer. This was due to him drawing something in the margins of his notes, and Marcy leaning over his shoulder and making corrections here and there. No one noticed the faint frown on the teacher's face as the five teens filed out the door.

They were passing by the cafeteria, arguing over the chemical compound Xander had been doodling during science class, when a scream of terrified horror ripped through the school. Marcy found herself dragged along as the other four hurried in and burst into the kitchen to see Cordelia standing in front of the fridge where the bloody and broken remains of what might have once been a human body was clearly visible.

"Oh hell," Marcy said, pale as ice as Buffy made her way closer to the remains, her skin color more suited to parchment then human skin.

What little blood there was had pooled on the bottom of the fridge, the bones were obviously broken and exposed, some were missing altogether and a few of the remaining had had the marrow sucked out of them. Willow, Amy, and Xander were swallowing convulsively, and would have puked if they hadn't had to clean up the remains of Catherine Madison only a few days before. The human organs weren't something that made a pretty sight, especially when it was obvious something had eaten them. The head was missing, but the exposed vertebrae was jagged, and crushed in some places.

They staggered out of the cafeteria as some of the administrators arrived and started to block the students access. Rodney arrived at a run and whisked his already traumatized teens away to the library, where Giles was waiting.

Giles started making a soothing tea as soon as he saw the teens come into the library. Rodney settled Willow, Amy, and Marcy on the couch while Buffy and Xander paced. A commotion out in the hall distracted them and a man and a woman burst into the room.

"Amy, sweetheart, are you all right?" He demanded as he fell to his knees in front of her. Amy just looked at him helplessly, glanced at Rodney, who'd moved closer to her when her father had bee-lined for her, burst into tears, and threw herself into Rodney's arms.

Rodney looked very disconcerted to have a crying female in his arms. Nevertheless, he wrapped awkward arms around the teen and patted her on the shoulder. He cast a pleading glance at Giles and the others. Xander stepped forward and hugged the two of them before gently drawing Amy away from Rodney and over to where Willow, Buffy, and Marcy were more than willing to help comfort her, leaving Giles and Rodney to deal with a shocked, hurt, and angry father.

"Who are you?" He demanded, all of his outrage and hurt evident in his voice, his body language so blatantly hostile that even Rodney knew it for what it was.

Rodney thought quickly. He couldn't give his real name. He was a well known scientific figure, a second him popping up would be noticed, even in Sunnydale. What name should he use? And then the perfect name hit him. It didn't occur to him that such panic and deception was un-needed, as people share the name and looks of famous people all the time. This was in part due to panic, and in part due to the fact that i_he_/i knew who he was, and that he was very used to thinking of himself as, well, himself.

"Emden Dex, I'm the assistant librarian to Mr. Giles here, and the emergency substitute." Giles didn't know _why_ Rodney had just lied about his name and profession, but he wasn't going to contradict him.

"What the hell is an emergency substitute?" Momentarily side-tracked, the enraged father just stared.

"Do you know how many diseases get spread because a sick teacher can't get a substitute in the middle of the day? That's where I come in. Unofficially of course, the classes I'm most qualified to teach are the computer classes and the hard sciences."

The rest of the meeting continued on in much the same vein, while a thread of black mist ghosted through the numerous files and minds of the residents of Sunnydale, as the Hellmouth created the false past of Emden Dex. Hellmouths are powerful entities, even when sealed, and as the oldest and most powerful the Sunnydale Hellmouth had fewer limitations then most. Taking in cues from the minds of the humans and demons within its boundaries, it built a life and history. It even managed to snag an apartment near Giles that had been placed on the market. The only snag was implanting the knowledge into Rodney's mind.

Rodney had only spent a few days on the Hellmouth, no more than two weeks at most. Normally that was plenty of time for a Hellmouth to ensnare the mind of a person, but Rodney had spent the better part of two years with the ability to hear Atlantis, while being almost constantly on her. As such, he had practice tuning out the machinations of an omnipresent influence on his abilities. He wasn't always successful, the city of Atlantis pushing him to hunt down the answers, solve the problems the Ancients had created.

Rodney crossed his arms sulkily as Amy left with her father and his girlfriend. He Did Not Approve, in the way that village matrons have been Not Approving of couples living together unmarried since villages had been come forward out of the mists of time. Thankfully, being hit in the head with blunt objects every time he spoke his honest, uncomplimentary, first gut reaction had slightly curbed that tendency in him. He had only managed to insult the girlfriend. And her mother. And her grandmother. And the majority of her extended family going back five generations. Okay, fine, it would take more than three days to do what no one had been able to do in nearly forty years, but he managed not to directly insult Amy's father.

"Does anyone remember what his name was?" Xander asked suddenly. "Or was I the only that forgot it?"

"Joe? Or was it Anthony?" Giles asked.

"Anthony's my father," Xander interjected.

"People share names all the time. I don't think he mentioned his name." Rodney was very huffy.


End file.
